


A Fair Exchange

by BecauseBraime



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Pining, The C/J tag is non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: What if Cersei asked for something different at the Dragon Pit and a deal was made?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 99
Kudos: 285





	1. The Dragon Pit

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Braime story. Any J/C is non-con or of the past. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter has some non-con between J/C

“Fuck loyalty”

_How dare that lumbering beast have the audacity to speak out of turn! And to my brother, my other half, of all people. The way she grabbed his arm and glared at him as though she was his. As though she had the right to it._

Since Jaime returned to King’s Landing many moons ago, plumes of smoke lingering over the sept, the stench of death in the air, Cersei’s twin had not visited her bed. Cersei tried all manner of enticing Jaime, but it was though he was somewhere else at all times. 

Cersei did not love her brother in the true sense. At one point she might have, but never as he loved her. She hadn’t even _needed_ him per say, but she needed his seed. She needed to forge a new dynasty of golden gods and goddesses. A replacement for the children she lost. Cersei reflected on their prior shortcomings. _Joffrey had been impulsive, Marcella naïve, and Tommen weak._ Cersei needed a new breed. They would be stronger this time because Robert would not need to pose as their father.

But despite her attempts, Jaime would not come to her. Then one night, Cersei remembered slipping into his room, naked as her nameday as she pulled off her housecoat. He was asleep and looked peaceful in the moonlight. A slight smile tugged at his lip in sleep and Cersei paused as she heard him groan. Rolling over, onto his back, she saw his bedsheets tent.

_Well this will be too easy. He must be dreaming of me. His suppressed urges in the daytime coming alive at night._

Cersei stalked closer and carefully lowered his bedsheet. He stirred slightly, but did not wake. Yanking down his smallclothes, Cersei moved to lower herself onto him; sheathing him into her warm folds. She started slowly riding him, falling into memories of her once golden twin. Her golden knight. He groaned and started to writhe under her. A name fell from his lips. Brienne.

Cersei stiffened in shock and rage. _What did he say!?_ The abrupt cease to movement must have woken Jaime as his eyes opened slowly and he realized what was going on. He shoved Cersei off of him, cursing and yelling at her to get out. That had been her last attempt to mate with the once golden lion before the dragon pit meeting. Her pride too wounded.

And now, her twin stands before her in map room after the summit with that foreign whore. Tyrion had left moments before to go skulking back to the enemy. A fitting place for him to be. Before her, Cersei considered her twin and wondered how they came to grow apart so. When had his ambitioned left him? Likely sometime after he lost his hand. And how completely predictable that he wants to help the enemy. _Maybe he and Tyrion were meant to be together. Nasty little creatures they both are_. 

“You SAW that thing Cersei! If we don’t stand together and help them, the dead will come for us!”

Cersei scoffed. “What _us_!? You just want to journey north with that cow, don’t you? Probably hoping the dead come right for me so that you can slink off to Essos with _her_.”

Jaime reeled back. Cersei snarled her lip and spat at him.

“I will not aid our enemy. Let them fight the dead and when the victor’s numbers are weak and depleted, we will defend my throne. Gods Jaime, you are as weak and useless as Tyrion.”

Jaime was incredulous, but knew better at that point than to argue with her. She had him well trained indeed. Her dutiful lapdog. Then a thought occurred to Cersei. _Perhaps I will treat with the North. Seems I could stand to gain from this arrangement._

Cersei wheeled on her brother, her chin tilted up defiantly, a curious look in her eyes. “Now that you’ve given me a moments peace to collect my thoughts, perhaps I might consider a contingent of troops north. I will require something else of the Dragon Queen if Jon Snow won’t declare himself to our cause. You may escort me back to the Dragon Pit now.”

As they approached the dragon pit to the surprise of Daenerys’ allied forces, Cersei stepped up the stairs and stopped yards before the group. She felt her brother approach her left side and Qyburn to her right; Lannister bannerman filling into the pit behind her.

“After much consideration and conferring with my brothers, I have decided that the crown will not stand down from the threat of the dead. We will march with you against the common enemy under one condition.”

All eyes were now fixed on Cersei and she reveled in it. She could feel the air grow thick with tension and anticipation.

“I will require an exchange. How am I to trust that you won’t slaughter my brother, commander of my army, and his highest ranking bannermen. It would leave us weak and unable to defend ourselves after the truce ceases. If you are to hold my brother as a ‘guest’, I will require my own in return.”

At that, Cersei turned to look into the eyes of the ugly beast before her. “I will require Lady Brienne remain behind. As she is the Starks sworn sword, it makes for an even exchange.” From the corner of Cersei’s eye, she could feel her brother turn to face her, mouth agape like a great fool. He gritted his teeth and whispered in angry, hushed tones. “By the Gods, what are you doing!?”

Cersei could feel the thrill power swirling through her as the enemy camp gasped and looked frantically to the cow. A twinge of excitement ran through Cersei as she watched Brienne’s eyes fall downcast in defeat and slowly come to the realization of what this meant. Brienne would not survive this extended stay in King’s Landing.

Jon Snow was the first to speak up. “Lady Brienne is a representative of my sister and is under our protection. I cannot allow this.”

Cersei feigned surprise and made to leave. “Very well then. Good luck against the dead.”

“No wait!” _Ah, so the cow does speak_. “I’ll stay your Grace.”

Jon looked at Brienne in shock and implored her that she needn’t do this, but Brienne, stubborn as ever, knew she had to stay. Cersei turned to see Jaime’s pained expression, beseeching her to reconsider.

“We need their support if the living are to survive this war.”

Daenerys spoke next. “When the war with the dead is done, you will return Lady Brienne to the North or we will not return you brother.”

Cersei’s lips turned up into a devilish grin. “It seems we have a deal. Guards! Escort Lady Brienne to the keep. I trust she remembers the way. Bring her to the throne room so we can have a little chat about her stay with us.”

As the guards approached Brienne, Cersei turned to leave and called out over her shoulder. “Oh yes and guards… take her sword. Or rather, reclaim the Lannister sword. It seems she stole away with my brother’s sword some years ago.” Cersei cast a knowing look at her brother before turning back towards the castle.

The guards removed Brienne’s sword belt and sword and thrust it into Jaime’s arms. As the guard walked past, he muttered “This is yours.”


	2. The Throne Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Cersei have a chat. Jaime learns what his sister wants.

When Jaime saw Brienne at the Dragon Pit, he felt a mix of emotions. Shock, anger, worry, and love.

He was shocked to see her amongst the northern allies looking so well. The rumors concerning the famously dubbed ‘Battle of the Bastards’ had reached King’s Landing and were worrisome to say the least. He had prayed to the seven for the first time in his life that she was safe.

He was angry that she was so foolish as to return to King’s Landing. Angry that Sansa had sent her sworn sword into the lion’s den. Angry that he couldn’t wrap his arms around her and thank the seven for answering his prayers.

He was worried. He had the unnerving sense that Cersei knew how deep his feelings for Brienne ran. He worried that his sister would seek to harm Brienne. Worried that prayers to the seven for Brienne’s safety would not be enough this time.

He felt love. He loved Brienne more than he had the words to express. He knew upon return from the Riverlands after losing a hand that this woman was something special to him. He knew when he sent her away to find Sansa that he felt something deeper for. Something more than respect and care, but something he couldn’t place at the time. He knew when he saw her at Riverrun that he loved her. It was as though the clouds parted and he could finally see the sun. It was all so clear. Seeing her in the Dragon Pit made his heart want to burst out of his chest.

And then Cersei blotted out the sun.

They stood in the throne room, Cersei on her godsforsaken throne, Jaime to her left, Brienne at the base of the stairs with the Mountain looming at her side. Brienne’s eyes flitted from him to Cersei and back to him. _Why Brienne. Why must you be such a self-sacrificing wench._

“Lady Brienne, how delightful to have you staying with us. I must say, I was so _worried_ after you disappeared from the capital so many years ago without so much as a goodbye. I thought we hit it off quite well during our time together in court.”

Brienne looked down at her feet, but kept her shoulders back. She looked up defiantly towards Cersei.

“Apologies your grace. I fear I overstayed my welcome. I’m not made for court and I upheld my end of the bargain in returning Ser Jaime to King’s Landing. There was nothing more for me here.” The words stung Jaime in an unexpected way.

Cersei quirked a smile and cast a glance at Jaime. “Nothing? Truly?”

From his spot next to Cersei, Jaime could notice Brienne’s discomfort and she swallowed deeply. This time, she did not look up from the floor.

Cersei hummed to herself and spoke again.

“Well its no matter. I know you’ll make it up to me.”

At that both, Jaime and Brienne looked to Cersei; hesitation and distrust etched on their faces.

“With my support, Daenerys’ numerous allies, and her dragons, I fail to see how this army of the dead nonsense could possibly win. Of course, I now need to think about protecting my kingdoms from the dragon bitch. Tell me Lady Brienne, you are the only living heir of Tarth, are you not?”

Jaime felt bile rise in his throat. He did not like where this was going. Cersei was like a cat toying with a mouse and Brienne was not made for courtly politics and maneuvering.

Hesitantly, Brienne nodded affirmation to Cersei’s query.

“Yes, well I thought as much. Poor man probably had an awful time trying to marry you off. Is there high demand for noble cows from young lords in need of a home for their cock?”

Jaime felt his hand ball into a fist as he watched Brienne’s shoulders round in on herself.

Cersei almost looked expectant of a reply, but continued on. “Tell me Lady Brienne, with the Baratheon lords now a distant memory, who is Tarth sworn to?”

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know your Grace. I haven’t been home in some time. Obviously, they recognize you as Queen, but I don’t know who is acting Warden of the Stormlands.”

Cersei’s smile deepened as she prepared to pounce.

“Qyburn’s little ones sing of your lord father as the most respected lord of the Stormlands. The other vassal houses seem to bend to his command. As you are his only heir, I imagine he would do anything for his little… well… lumbering girl.”

Brienne seemed as uncertain as Jaime and only looked on in confusion.

“Well this is wonderfully convenient Lady Brienne. You will write to your father, indicating that he will bring the might of the Stormlands to defend King’s Landing from a foreign invasion of Dothraki, Unsullied, and… rebelling Northerners. Of course, should you elect _not_ to write him, I suppose we will consider you a traitor to the crown and afford you slightly less comfortable accommodations throughout your duration with us. I’m sure it would mean _so much more_ coming from you than me. I will be summoning him nonetheless.”

Jaime could feel his heart constrict as he knew Brienne’s answer before it came. _Damnit wench. Do you know what self-preservation is?_

Brienne stood at full height, chin tipped up, and spoke commandingly. “Well than I consider myself glad for years of sleeping without shelter from an inn nor a castle.”

Cersei laughed sardonically and glared at Brienne. “Ha. Yes, I imagine you’re more accustomed to the stables. Oh lady Brienne, the lack of bed in the cells shall be the least of your concerns. Don’t worry, we did agree not to kill you... yes. I never agreed not to take necessary measures to remind you who the true Queen is though.”

At that Cersei rose and looked to the undead Mountain positioned by Brienne’s side.

“Ser Gregor. Qyburn. Our guest is weary from her travels. Please do show her to her new accommodations. And Ser Gregor, please free to help her get settled in.” Cersei’s lips curled sadistically as she left the throne room in a flurry.

Jaime cast desperate glance to Brienne. She briefly met his eyes and then looked down to the floor. He hoped that she could feel all the worry, love, and promises swirling through his mind, but then Qyburn and Ser Gregor were on each side of her elbow; walking her straight towards the Seven Hells. _I’ll protect you wench if you don’t protect yourself. With every fiber in my being._

Jaime chased Cersei down the hallway asking clipped questions. “What are you doing!?” “What good do you expect to come of this?” “Why!?”

Cersei rounded on Jaime and narrowed her eyes at him. “What? Worried about your beast? Don’t worry, Ser Gregor is of her size. Surely they can keep each other warm. You know how drafty the black cells get.”

Taking a steadying breath, Jaime reconsidered his approach. “Cersei, we have far more pressing matters than torturing Sansa’s sworn sword. Shouldn’t we concentrate our efforts on preparing for the battle?”

Cersei grabbed Jaime by the arm and pulled him into a side chamber. Chambermaids scurried out at the sight of the twins.

Cersei started to saunter into the room and then paused, turning to face him with an odd look on her face. “My dear, sweet brother. You’ve always had such a soft spot for broken things. Lets not discuss that beast who fancies herself a knight. It has been so long since we _spoke_ together.”

Cersei placed her hands on Jaime’s shoulders, dragging them down his chest, down further to his hips, and then moved to rub his cock. Jaime jerked backwards and started to bat her away, but Cersei grabbed tighter and pressed her body against him; her lips coming to rest against his neck just below his ear.

“Listen to me. We are all that is left of our house. Our children are dead.” Her hand moved into his breeches and stroked his cock teasingly. Jaime felt his cock start to stir more out of habit than desire. Cersei nipped at his neck and wrapped her hand around his length, starting to stroke his member. Jaime’s heart started to beat faster, but then his vision blurred with images of Brienne’s sapphire pools and his cock stirred no further. Sensing his hesitance, Cersei used her other hand to undo the laces of his breeches and pushed him back against the wall.

She lowered herself to her knees, never breaking eye contact, and took him into mouth. For a moment, Jaime hesitated and sank into the warmth of her mouth. Cersei only ever took him in mouth when she needed something monumental of him. His cock started to stir again, but Jaime’s mind wandered again. The fleeting lust was quickly replaced by anger. Jaime pushed her back and moved to shove his cock back into his pants and tie his breeches.

Cersei grabbed the nearest cup and threw it at his head, but Jaime’s arms came up to block it; sending the cup careening to the ground. Cersei moved into his space again, wildfire burning in her eyes as she snarled at him.

“You are going to give me an heir. A proper heir. And if you don’t, I will see to it that your beast is given an heir of her own by the Mountain; you will bear witness. Then I will kill her.”


	3. The Black Cells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes to check on Brienne in the cells. Cersei has another chat with her brother.

Jaime’s good hand slid along the cold, moist rock of the hall leading to the black cells. It was the middle of the night and not wanting to risk torch light drawing attention from the guards on duty, Jaime quietly made his way along the winding passage. He shuddered from the cool, sea breeze creeping in from the cracks between stonework and windows overlooking Blackwater Bay. As he rounded the last corner containing the rows of cells, he peered into the hatches in frantic effort to find Brienne’s quarters.

He knew she would be placed within one of the cells to the exterior side of the castle as Qyburn and Cersei would want to ensure the least protection from the elements as possible. About five cells into his search, he spotted her. She was curled in a ball against the back, righthand side of the cell. She had been stripped down to nothing but her breeches and a thin tunic.

As Jaime produced a key from his pocket and slowly pushed the door open, he watched as Brienne jolted upright and moved further back into the corner. Her face was a map of bruises and her clothing covered in filth. She had been badly beaten. Jaime felt his heart stop as he took her in.

A longing whisper, her name fell from his lips. “Brienne.”

Upon recognition of his person, Jaime saw the tension in her body give way to relief.

“Are you alright? They’ve hurt you.”

Brienne looked up to him wearily. “Its fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Jaime sighed and slowly approached; kneeling to come to eye level. He produced a blanket which had been tucked between his elbow and side; wrapping it around her.

“Did they… do anything else? Other than hit you?”

Blue eyes locked on green and she nodded in denial; easing his next most pressing concern for her after confirming she lived.

“I’m so sorry Brienne. I had no idea what Cersei was up to. I would have bid you run far and fast the first time she exited the Dragon Pit had I known what was to pass. This is all my fault.”

Brienne lifted her chin defiantly as only Brienne could do.

“This is NOT your fault Ser Jaime. I understood the risk in coming to the capital. It is my duty to ensure Lady Sansa’s safety. I imagine worse would have befallen her should she have answered the summons.”

Jaime felt shame well deep within him.

“I’m not entirely certain that is true.”

Brienne cast a confused look at him before responding.

“I don’t follow. Your sister wants Lady Sansa dead. That much is obvious.”

Jaime wasn’t certain how much he should say. _Do I tell her Cersei does this to torture me as much as to torture her? Do I tell her that she may likely die because my heart beats only for her and not Cersei?_

Jaime broke eye contact and looked down at the floor. He ran his good hand over his face and through his hair in frustration. As if sensing his internal conflict, Brienne, in typical Brienne fashion, cast a worried glance at him.

“Are you alright? Has something happened?”

_Stupid, stubborn, selfless wench. You are in here because of me!_

“Brienne, I don’t… I don’t know how to say this. Please don’t think ill of me. It’s just…”

Jaime inhaled deeply and looked back into her eyes.

“I have not _been_ with my sister in some time.” He cast a suggestive look at Brienne, bidding her understand his meaning without being more descript. When he saw her initial confusion give way to one of understanding and then just as quickly back to confusion, Jaime pressed on.

“By some time, I mean since I returned from Riverrun. I _refuse_ her. Unfortunately, it seems she knows why I refuse her.” Again, Jaime glanced away. Afraid of the judgement to come in those damned sapphire pools.

“I refuse her because of _you_. And she hates you for it.” He paused to glance at her face. It bore an expression he could not place. “I’m sorry Brienne. I am the reason you are in here.”

After a brief silence, she spoke. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you refuse her because of me?”

Hesitantly, Jaime looked back into her eyes. Mustering every bit of courage he possessed, Jaime raised his good hand to cup her chin; stroking her bruised cheek gently with his thumb.

“I love you Brienne. I love you and she knows. I am only sorry that no good has ever come for my loving anyone. Death and destruction only seem to surround it.”

Brienne’s eyes widened in shock at his words. Her lips parted and a faint gasp escaped her throat. She looked away and he felt his heart shatter. _She must be repulsed by me. Why would she want an oath breaking, sister-fucker like me loving her? And look what good it has done her!_

With her head still turned from him, she whispered faintly. “Why?”

At that Jaime could only huff in laughter. “We don’t get to choose who we love.” She looked back into his eyes. “But if we could, I would choose you every time.”

Jaime watched as Brienne’s eyes welled with tears. Jaime hadn’t realized that his hand had fallen to her shoulder. She slowly grabbed his hand and pulled it to rest over her heart. Repeating his words from Riverrun, she looked him in the eyes and stated, “Its yours. It will always be yours.”

Jaime lunged forward and captured her lips with his own. He felt as though he might implode from the warmth rushing through his body. His hand moved back to her cheek and his false hand wrapped around her back; pulling her to him. Jaime felt Brienne’s hands cup his face. He lost all track of time as he became lost in her. He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth. Jaime could feel his cock hardening and begin to beg release from his breeches. He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t. It was as though a spark ignited and caught wildfire.

Slowly his hand traveled down her face and cupped her breast feeling her nipple harden under his touch. He squeezed her breast over the thin tunic and rolled his thumb over her pert nipple. _Gods help me I need to stop, but I can’t._

He broke their searing kiss and dipped his head to her neck, kissing and sucking at the pale flesh. He could feel her pulse quickening against his mouth. Slowly he made his way back across her jaw to the other side of her neck and came to an abrupt halt. The scars from the bear. It snapped him back to reality. _Brienne is in danger._

“I’m sorry. I got a lost in you for a moment.” Jaime was breathless saying the words, but his gaze was fixed on the scars from the bear. “I need to figure out how to get you out of here safely. Perhaps when I lead the troops north to fight the dead, I can smuggle you out and mask you amongst my ranks.”

Brienne nodded mutely, looking down to the stone floor beneath them. Jaime lifted her chin again.

“I will get you out of this Brienne. I’m sorry.”

Brienne’s mouth formed a small, sad smile. “I trust you.” Before he moved to leave, he remembered the dagger. Pulling out the sheathed blade from his jerkin, Jaime placed it into Brienne’s hands.

“Keep this hidden on you. If that fucking monster tries to touch you, shove it in his eye.”

Brienne nodded and slipped the blade between her boots and breeches.

Jaime leaned in and pressed his forehead against Brienne’s. “I love you Brienne. I’ll check on you whenever I can. I need to be careful about coming down here and rousing suspicions. I don’t want harm to befall you.”

Brienne steeled herself and nodded. “I understand. Thank you.” Brienne placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “And Jaime, please be careful.”

_Jaime. Just Jaime._

The next morning, Jaime called his war council to plan for the march north. They hoovered over the map and plotted out their journey from the capital. As he looked down at the maps, he noticed his men snap to attention and bow their heads. Turning to look at what caught their attention, he saw his sister.

“If you’ll all excuse me gentlemen. I need to speak with my brother.”

Jaime heard the quick retreat of his men as Cersei sauntered over to him, a small smile tugging at her lips. From the shadows, Jaimie could see the Mountain hoovering menacingly.

“Whatever are you doing?” Cersei’s voice dripped with amusement and calculating undertones.

“What does it look like? I’m preparing my men for the campaign north.”

Cersei guffawed at that and came to a stop mere inches from Jaime’s face. “Do you not recall our little conversation the other day brother? However will you meet those orders while marching an army north? Don’t be stupid Jaime. You’re not going with them.”

Jaime felt his heart drop at her words. _I can’t stay here in the capital with Cersei. I need to get Brienne out of here._

“Those are my men! I need to lead them.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed at him. “Don’t be a fool! You’re a one-handed cripple. Whatever do you plan to do when those things come rushing at you? Slap them away with your worthless stump? Your generals are more than capable of leading the men in your stead.”

“I will not sit by idly here in the capital while my men risk their lives for me; for us!”

Cersei’s face contorted in rage. “I am queen and you will do as I command! You will stay here and oversee the forces remaining behind to protect us.”

At the statement, Cersei spun on her heel and marched towards the desk. Reaching for a jug on the table, she poured herself a cup of wine before turning back to Jaime.

“Besides looking after our remaining troops, you will find yourself quite occupied getting to work on that heir we discussed. Tell me brother, why have you not come to _visit_ me since our little chat?”

 _Fuck_. “I’ve been quite busy strategizing for the very war you just removed me from.”

Cersei’s lips twitched and her eyes glittered with barely suppressed rage.

“Not too busy to visit your whore though?”

Jaime could feel his throat constrict and his heartbeat quicken.

Cersei chuckled seeing his reaction. “Oh yes brother. I know all about your little visit with our guest. Although I must say, arming a traitor is a rather poor strategy. Perhaps its best that I removed you from this military campaign.”

As Cersei moved away from the table, Jaime caught sight of the dagger he had given Brienne; its golden pommel glistening in the stray rays passing through the window. Jaime could feel his mouth go dry as his throat constricted more.

“Tell me brother. Did you pleasure yourself after your little tryst in the cells? It so saddens me to think on wasted seed. Especially when there is a perfectly good place for you to dump it.” Jaime watched as Cersei’s hand trailed down her chest to her crotch, grasping slightly at the fabric of her skirt.

“Would it be easier for you if she was in the room when we made our heir?”

Bile rose in Jaime’s throat.

“Think about it. You could pleasure me while looking across the room to Ser Gregor riding your cow.” Cersei’s smile was cutting and it took all of Jaime’s restraint to keep from leaping at Cersei and choking the life from her.

Slowly, Cersei walked back towards Jaime and lowered her voice, whispering into his ear.

“Maybe that’s it then. A lovely little foursome. Stay away from the black cells Jaime or I’ll ensure your cow is properly bedded the next time.”

In a swirl of skirts, Cersei stormed out of the room; Ser Gregor at her heel.


	4. The Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The army leaves. Cersei's bigger plans are revealed.

Jaime stood on the battlements watching his army ride out… without him. In the days since the confrontation with his sister, Jaime had not tried to visit Brienne for fear of her safety. He had also avoided his sister like the whores in Baelish’s brothels.

As Jaime stood looking down at his men marching off to fight for a valiant cause, he felt someone approach his side. Bronn.

“About a moon’s turn before they get to Winterfell I reckon. Gods think of all the desperate camp followers they’ll have. A last chance at a good fuck before the world ends. And I’m stuck here with you blonde cunts. Fuck me.”

Jaime glared at the crass sellsword besides him. “By all means, go enjoy my sweet sister. She is quite keen on getting herself another heir these days. Even brings with her a castle.”

Bronn scoffed and scrunched his face. “Ya sister is a crazy fucker. I’d just as soon cut off me own cock and make for the unsullied ranks. What? Trouble in paradise? Ya’ve got the whole fancy castle all to ya’selves while the rest of the country does ya dirty work.”

Jaime felt his blood boiling at the man’s words. _I want to fight. I want to get Brienne out of here. I want to be as far away from Cersei as humanly possible even if that means fighting the dead_.

Jaime lowered his voice after collecting himself. “Did you drop off the package?”

Bronn grew serious, a rare feat for the sellsword. “Aye. Recipient was a bit beat up, but _untouched_ otherwise.”

A weight lifted from Jaime’s shoulders at the words. “Thank you.”

With a firm clap on the shoulder, Bronn strode off leaving Jaime to his thoughts. _Now how to get Brienne out of this mess._

Near a fortnight passed before Jaime encountered his sister again. He had occupied himself at the armory in preparation for the fight to come. Whether the living won or lost, there was the matter of a second battle to consider. Jaime dragged his feet with exhaustion back to his room, slowly removing his layers as he walked in. Stripping down to his tunic, he threw his doublet over the armchair and walked to the table to pour himself a glass of wine.

There in the shadows, he saw something. Cersei.

She was wearing a sheer robe; otherwise naked as her nameday.

“Where have you been brother? I thought I made it quite clear the reason you were to stay behind. Instead of obeying your queen, you’ve been avoiding me. Don’t think I’m unaware of where you skulked off to. Varys isn’t here, but his little birds still sing. You prepare for nothing of consequence in that blasted armory all day.”

Cersei slowly stalked Jaime as he backed up, bumping into the table and chair in the process.

“Cersei not now. I’m tired. Leave me be. You may think this war to come inconsequential, but I assure you it is anything but.”

Cersei reached for his face and grabbed his hip with her other hand. “Poor, sweet, stupid brother. Why ever do you think this war will be anything of great import? We have the numbers to face whatever enemy stands after the battle to the north.”

Jaime scoffed and turned his back to Cersei. “You’re a fool if you think whatever army wins and turns their attention to us is of little consequence.”

He felt Cersei’s arms reach around his waist and dip into his breeches.

“For years you would have killed to have me pressed against you and wanting. Now you turn your back on me; on us.”

Swatting Cersei’s hand away, Jaime turned back to face his sister and pushed her backwards off him.

“I’m not your creature Cersei! Go find someone else to make you the damn heir you crave.”

“I can’t!” She barked. Jaime looked at her confused.

“Don’t you understand!? This one will be better than the others. More pure. More golden. The Baratheon name sullied the other three. They were weak. We will create a new pride of roaring lions. One to rival the great Targaryen dynasties. We will rule all of Westeros and after we beat the Dragon Queen, her free cities.”

Jaime gasped at his sister’s words. “Cersei do you hear yourself? You’ve lost your mind. You are starting to sound like a Targaryen.”

Cersei’s lips turned up at the comparison. “Then make it so. Make me your sister-wife. Isn’t that what you always dreamed of brother? What you always promised me?” Cersei snaked her hands down Jaime’s breeches again and grabbed his cock violently.

“Make it so brother. Take me to bed.” She began simultaneously squeezing and stroking his cock. Jaime moved to push her away, but she gripped tighter and he found his body moved forward with her as he shoved her back.

Pulling him backwards by the cock, she pulled him back towards the bed. Lowering herself down, Cersei parted her legs to him, pulling harder on his cock.

Jaime reached into his pants and grabbed her wrist, squeezing it violently until she released his member. He yanked her hand above her head, lowering his body against her.

Cersei’s eyes flashed with lust and she lifted her hips to meet him. Jaime ground his pelvis into her and waited for the realization to kick in. He was flaccid and no lust filled his eyes.

The lust in her eyes gave way to one of anger. She shoved Jaime away from her and scrambled to her feet. “I thought I made it clear, you will bed me or your cow will be bedded by Ser Gregor.” At the mention of Brienne, Jaime’s anger gave way to fear. _Brienne_.

“Ah yes, there it is. Kingslayer’s Whore. Shall we start again brother?”

Jaime felt bile rise in his throat at the thought of needing to bed Cersei. Trying to think quickly, Jaime changed the subject.

“Why not wait until after the wars. This baby will never see the light of day if the north falls and the dead march on king’s landing. If Daenerys prevails, they have the numbers. We only have the Westerlands. Daenerys has the Dothraki, Unsullied, the North, and the Vale. Oh and there is that little matter of TWO BLOODY DRAGONS! Even that fool Euron abandoned your lost cause!”

The flame in Cersei’s eyes burned out, but was immediately replaced by one of sadistic pleasure.

“You think me as much a fool as you brother? Do you really believe I sent our army north?”

Jaime’s eyes went wide with horror.

“I am no fool. I sent the Lannister army to guard the Neck. Our troops will be at full strength and awaiting any victor who comes running. And Euron did not abandon our cause. He took his fleet overseas to meet with my new purchase. Twenty thousand troops from Essos. The Golden Company. Bought and paid for. I’m told they will even bring elephants. Grand beasts, can you imagine it brother!?” Cersei’s eyes danced with twisted glee as Jaime reeled back.

“Between them, the Greyjoy fleet, the Westerlands, the Freys, and the Stormlands, no army riding south stands a chance; living or dead.

“The Stormlands? You contributed to the downfall of the Baratheon house. The house they are pledged to. Do you really think they would answer your call?”

Cersei smiled wide at the question. “I fail to see how Lord Selwyn can resist. If he cares a wit for that beast of his, he will bring the might of the Stormlands to us. I sent him a raven just earlier this week. I let him know that his daughter is our ‘honored guest’. Should he fail to answer the call, I will send him her head. On second thought, perhaps I should cast the head into the sea and send him her headless, pregnant body. He might think it a mercy to not have to look upon her face and he will know his daughter died with someone finally have bedded her.”

_I need air. I’m going to be sick. How could she do this? She is Aerys reborn._

“Now that your worries of war are adequately addressed, shall we proceed.” Cersei pointed back to the bed and sat down; running her hand over the sheets with her other hand coming up to pull back her robe.

_Just go away inside. Keep Brienne safe._

His body wouldn’t cooperate. He could scarcely move despite his brain pleading at him to do something.

Sitting up from her position on the bed, Jaime saw more than felt Cersei’s hands grab him by the hips and pull him forward, down onto the bed. He saw Cersei trail kisses down his chest to his stomach. He saw Cersei shift to straddle him while placing her lithe hand down his breeches.

_Just go away inside. Keep Brienne safe._

He saw Cersei pull down his breeches and smallcothes and then position herself on top of him, grinding against him.

_Just go away inside. Keep Brienne safe._

Suddenly the motion stopped. Cersei slapped him across the face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!? Jaime!”

Jaime realized he was still flaccid. “I… I can’t…” The shocking realization dawned on him. He was truly free of his sister, but at what cost?

Cersei abruptly stood and wrapped herself back in the robe.

“Fine! You want to do this the hard way!? You need a little visual _motivation_? Tomorrow I will make you fuck me while your whore watches. And if you can’t find a way to get it up staring at her, Ser Gregor will take her. He will take her maidenhead and then he will take her again and again until she is broken into pieces.”

And just like that, Cersei stormed out of the room.

_What have I done?_


	5. The Chambers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Cersei, Brienne, and the Mountain spend some time together.

Brienne couldn’t remember the last time her body wasn’t shaking with cold and hunger. She had lost track of time in the cells and the only awareness of its passage was the fading of bruises. It had become a cycle of beatings. The only things less consistent than the beatings were the morsels of bread, filthy water, and the visits from Jaime’s sellsword.

_Never thought I would see the day that I look forward to visits from a cutthroat. At least he brings something other than stale bread._

Brienne raised her arm into the fading rays of sunlight creeping in through the cracks in the stonework of her cell. Purple. The freshest marks from the Mountain; hand shaped and spreading her wrist and forearm.

_Jaime. Jaime, where are you?_

Distantly Brienne heard the all too familiar sound of a dungeon door creaking open. The heavy, monotonous footsteps lumbering down the hallway towards her. The wheezing breath of the rat-like maester at the heels of the zombielike creature.

Slowly the footsteps came to a halt and the sound of a key fitted into the lock of her cell door. _Please let this be more stale breadcrumbs and not another beating._ As the door opened, Brienne scurried into the corner and awaited today’s offering.

“Lady Brienne. Her Grace requests your presence in the Keep. Now please, come along and do try not to fuss.”

_Well this is new._

As the trio made their way through the dungeon hallways, worry began to cloud Brienne’s mind. _Why is Cersei summoning me? Is my father OK? Is Jaime OK? Are the dead defeated?_

As they stepped into a hallway closer to ground level, the brightness of the space nearly blinded her. Brienne put her bruise laden arm to her eyes to shield them from the sun. Her body felt weak from the mere exertion of walking the distance they had thus far traveled.

As her steps began to falter from faintness, Brienne felt Ser Gregor’s left hand grab her right elbow and squeeze violently. She was being half dragged, half lead by the arm. Suddenly a room came into focus that Brienne recognized. The throne room. Brienne was surprised to see it empty save for a couple of chambermaids scurrying about with linens. _Where is everyone?_

They continued towards what appeared to be the living quarters of the keep. Coming to an abrupt halt outside one door, Qyburn raised his hand to knock; casting a smarmy smile towards Brienne. From the other side of the door, Brienne heard Cersei’s voice beckon. “Enter.”

As the door opened, Brienne was taken aback by the sight. Cersei stood in a sheer robe on the balcony; a glass of wine in hand and staring out over the city below. Standing in the center of the room between the balcony and a bed, stood Jaime. He looked distressed and agitated. As their eyes met, Brienne noted the sorrowful expression in his green eyes. _What is going on?_

“Lady Brienne. How good of you to join us. Please, come in.” Cersei spoke the words while barely sparing Brienne a glance. “Thank you, Qyburn. That will be all.”

At Cersei’s command, the maester bowed and retreated from the room. Brienne looked to her side as the Mountain made no move to back away or leave.

“So… Lady Brienne. I trust the accommodation suit your station. Perhaps they might even be considered an upgrade.”

Brienne stood rigid; frantically looking between Cersei and Jaime. Cersei continued to make little eye contact while Jaime’s bore into her.

“My brother and I here were just having a little chat. When we were little, a maid caught us mimicking the animals we had seen mating at the Rock. Of course, my mother, foolish as she was, believed this to be inappropriate and had us separated at once. I fear that all my brother’s time in your presence has reminded him too much of those vile beasts. I thought it might be fun to have you and Ser Gregor put on a show to inspire us.” A vicious smirk spread across Cersei’s face.

At that, Brienne felt the Mountain’s presence move closer; more menacingly. Brienne felt her body stiffen and her pulse race. Her eyes flitted from Cersei to Jaime. He looked as she felt.

“So before we begin, tell me. Do you fancy anything to eat? Some meat? Cheese? Grass?”

Brienne felt the walls shrinking in on her. Every instinct in her body told her to run. To fight. Then Jaime’s words came back to her. _Go away inside._ Brienne panicked and looked to the Mountain looming next to her. _No. I will fight. I will fight even though I know it will kill me._

Before Brienne could make her move, Jaime spoke. “Enough Cersei! We had a deal.”

Cersei snickered at his words and walked towards her brother, her hand coming to his cheek. “Yes, we did.” Cersei rose to press her lips to Jaime’s. Brienne felt equal parts sick and uncomfortable. She turned her head away from the scene before her.

Without looking up, Brienne could sense the atmosphere in the room shift. She heard the ruffling of clothes and linen. She heard the sound of lips meeting lips. Then she heard Cersei’s voice. “Come now brother, give me your seed.”

Brienne’s stomach rolled. _Gods get me out of here. This has to be a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up! Or maybe this is the truth and Jaime’s visit the farce. Maybe this is their game and I the victim. Stupid, lumbering beast that I am. How could anyone ever love me._

Interrupting her thoughts was Jaime’s voice. “Don’t grimace. It gives away the game.”

Blue eyes locked on green eyes. Cersei lay on the bed, legs spread, and naked. Jaime was shirtless and his breeches undone, half tugged off his hips, pelvis flush against Cersei. His eyes flitted to the wall to her right. Ornate, twin blades, crossed together over a table.

 _He means me to take them._ Looking back at the twins, it was only then Brienne noticed that Jaime’s good hand was over Cersei’s mouth. His false hand and arm pressed against her long, slender neck. The queen’s eyes wide in confusion and fear. With the faintest of nods, Brienne then watched as Jaime lowered his body onto Cersei, obscuring the view of her face and neck. Brienne watched as Cersei’s body lightly convulsed under Jaime’s.

After what felt like a lifetime, Jaime pulled back from Cersei’s form ever so slightly. Brienne could see the queen’s face. Eyes bloodshot. Unresponsive. Within the same heartbeat, Brienne lunged for the swords on the wall and she heard Jaime jump from the bed. Ser Gregor barely registered what was happening as his body shifted to face Brienne.

Yanking the swords from the wall, Brienne watched the Mountain stalk towards her, hand moving to his sword. Brienne flipped one of the swords, pummel first, to her right and Jaime caught it in his left. As the Mountain’s blade came down towards Brienne, Jaime and Brienne crossed swords to block his blow. They began a series of blocks and strikes slowly picking the man apart. Moving as one; twin blades dancing around the lumbering man. “Bronn! Now!”

Brienne heard a door fly open and Bronn came running in. Brienne felt her strength fading from days in the cells; limited food, water, light, and sleep.

As if sensing her struggle, Jaime was at her side. Their two swords coming together as one. Their right and left arm joined at the elbow to block the Mountain’s thunder blows. They would block together and Jaime would strike. Bronn’s own dagger slicing at the undead creature to distract him for the tall warriors in front of him. Suddenly, an arrow shot into Ser Gregor’s neck. Thick, black sludge oozed out of the wound and the creature dropped to its knees. With a roar and a wild swing, Jaime’s blade decapitated the Mountain.

The three stood panting in exertion as Brienne took everything in. She felt herself fall to her knees and her upper body began to topple forward. Hands came to meet and steady her. _Jaime_.

“Brienne! Brienne, look at me!” Brienne raised her eyes to meet Jaime’s, desperate and full of concern.

“I feel a bit faint. I… I think I just need…” Jaime tugged her close to his chest and pressed his lips to her head. “Ssshh, I’ve got you now wench.”

Brienne felt Jaime turn his head towards Bronn. “Why not start with the fucking crossbow!?”

Bronn chuckled at that. “What? And interrupt ya little dance with ya lady? Now what? Should I take ‘er out of here?”

Brienne could feel Jaime shake his head. “No. I’ve got her. I’ll need you to track down a chambermaid. Tell her I need water, food, and a bath prepared in my quarters.”

Bronn walked towards the bed and sighed, pointing at Cersei’s lifeless body. “Great then what the fuck are we suppose’ to do with ‘er? Ask the maid to then come back here and clean up ya mess?” Then he pointed back to the mountain. “And I’m not liftin this big fucka’.”

Brienne felt Jaime take a deep breath. “I need to send word to the North. After you send for the maid, I need you to find the small council members. They are to meet me in the throne room in half hours time. Have Qyburn chained and brought there as well. Let the council know that the Mountain has killed the Queen.”


	6. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set in motion in King's Landing. A new king is to be crowned.

Jaime looped his arm around Brienne’s waist and guided her to his chambers. He was surprised by how well she fought considering how awful she looked. From the moment Brienne entered the chambers, Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off her; partly out of concern for her wellbeing and partly out of longing. Every fiber in his being wanted to pull her into an embrace. Shield her from Cersei and the Mountain, both physically and emotionally. But he knew he couldn’t. Not when he needed to do the unthinkable to keep her safe. He had to kill his own twin.

Regardless of how aware Jaime was of Cersei’s mental instability, he had never wanted to end her life. Cersei had become more and more emotionally volatile with every passing moon for years. At first, Jaime believed it a consequence of losing Joffrey to poison and Marcella to Dorne, but the more time passed and the more Cersei’s grip on reality slipped, the more Jaime recognized the signs. She was Aerys reborn. Cersei’s decision to blowup the sept snuffed out any hope of saving the little girl Jaime had grown up at the Rock with. Looking back now, Jaime suspected his memories of Cersei were distorted even then. Was she ever innocent and pure?

Guiding Brienne through the halls, he cringed at the lack of muscle tissue covering her ribs. The labored manor in which she breathed. The varying stages of bruising covering her face, neck, and arms. He imagined those marks reached lower than his eyes could currently discern.

As they reached his room, a chambermaid was running down the hall with a water jug and food. “Apologies m’lord. I only just heard ye needed attending to. The bath will be ready shortly. I brought ye some food and water to start.”

Shuffling into the room, Jaime helped Brienne down onto a settee. As the maid scurried about, he took her in properly.

“How do you feel? Do you need a maester?” Jaime tucked a lock of hair back from Brienne’s face and behind her ear. Giving her a once over, he could see that the bruising did in fact dip below neck level.

“No. No, I don’t think anything is broken. I’m just so tired. A bit dizzy too.”

Jaime huffed. “Yes, well I doubt you were eating as well as those in the castle a few levels above you. Nor were most above you getting regular checkups from the Mountain. A warm bath should help with the pain. Some food to give you energy.”

Jaime turned to retrieve the platter set down by the maid and poured some water into a goblet. He tucked the tray against his body, supporting it with his false hand, and then carried the goblet in his good hand.

The young maid strode into the hall, casting a glance to her left and urging along some unseen attendants. As a small group came rushing in with buckets of water to fill the tub, Jaime watched as Brienne ate the food and sipped the water. He felt a weight lift as he knew with some rest and nourishment she would soon be on the mend.

Once the bath was prepared, the chambermaid and attendants cleared out from the room and Jaime pulled Brienne to her feet. Reaching for the laces of her tunic, she caught his hand. “What are you doing?”

Jaime’s looked at her abashedly and wondered if he overstepped his bounds. “Taking off your shirt.”

Brienne looked a bit hesitant, but then moved her own hands to continue untying the laces. As she pushed her tunic open and wrapped her arms around her chest, Jaime sucked in a gasp at the smattering of bruises all over her chest and sides. Slowly, he turned her upper body to get a better look at her back and it was even worse than her front. _Gods she must have curled in on herself to protect her ribs and front._

“I’m so sorry Brienne. I should have found a way to act sooner.” It was all Jaime could say and yet not enough.

“Its alright. It could have been worse.” Brienne muttered, but the meaning behind the words did not escape Jaime. He shivered at the thought of the Mountain doing anything more to Brienne. Jaime stood before Brienne, wanting to wrap himself around her and kiss her, but another part of him wanted to be respectful of the state she was in. As silence filled the room for some time, it was Brienne who spoke next.

“I think I can handle my breeches.” At the words, Jaime noticed a heavy blush settle over her face, neck and chest. _Gods how many nights I’ve wondered how deep that blush sets._ Jaime looked away quickly, not wanting to make the situation any more _awkward_.

“Right, sorry! I’ll leave you to it. I better get down to the throne room. This shouldn’t take long. In the meantime, I have clean tunics and breeches in the chest. They should do well enough until we get you some proper clothing.”

Brienne nodded while continuing to hug her chest tightly. “Jaime. Are you alright?”

Barely suppressing a laugh, Jaime looked back to her. “I hardly think I’ve been the one under duress.”

At his own words, Jaime realized why Brienne asked the question. She gave him a look befitting Cersei’s moniker of ‘the stupidest Lannister”, but her eyes warmed and her posture softened. “I don’t think either of us have had it easy. But… Cersei. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

Jaime felt his heart expand with love for the woman before him. Only Brienne would stand there, beaten to the color of an eggplant, malnourished, and just having escaped threat of rape by an undead monster and think of his feelings in all of this. With all restraint thrown out the window, Jaime pulled her into an embrace and buried his nose into the soft space below her ear.

“I love you. I won’t pretend that I wanted to kill my own sister, the woman I spent too many years loving, but I would do it again to keep you safe.” Jaime felt Brienne’s arms drop from her own body and wrap around him.

“I love you too. Thank you for saving me again. You’re making a terrible habit of it.”

“Yes well you keep making a terrible habit of putting yourself before the Stranger himself.” Jaime chuckled into her ear and inhaled deeply; the unique scent of Brienne filling his senses.

Jaime backed away and flashed a teasing smile. “You certain you don’t need help with your breeches?”

Brienne swatted him with one hand while covering her chest with the other. “Really Jaime! Don’t you need to see to things in the throne room.”

“Yes, yes I’m going. You know its not as though I haven’t seen you naked before. I seem to recall a very naked, very angry Brienne towering over me in the baths at Harrenhal.”

“Well if you delay me much longer and I’m met with cold bathwater, you might meet angry Brienne again.”

Jaime pressed a quick kiss to her lips, smiling fully against hers, and then strode out of the room.

Down in the throne room, Jaime entered to find Bronn standing next to a chained Qyburn. “Where are the other members of the council?” Bronn gave an exaggerated look around, flung open his arms, and smirked at Jaime. “You’re looking at it!”

Jaime huffed in irritation. “You are not on the council Bronn.”

Bronn shrugged and pointed to Qyburn. “No, but this one is. Have ya been to many council meetings of later there lord commander?”

_Shit. I can’t recall the last time I showed up. I think Pycelle had been there. Uncle Kevan? No, that’s right. Cersei killed him in the sept._

“I see ya strugglin’ so let me help. There wasn’t one. Ya sister killed or removed ‘em all. Well… except yaself and this one.”

Jaime’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well. This will be easy than. Kill him.”

Qyburn moved to protest, but was met with a dagger across the throat from Bronn. Wiping his blade clean, Bronn looked at Jaime. “Now what?”

Jaime furrowed his brows and shrugged. “Well the Golden Company is likely to be here within a fortnight. The Stormalnds within days. I need to take control of the City Guard, bannermen and Queensguard before then; obtain recognition as king so that the Golden Company will abide by my orders as they made contract with the crown.”

Bronn guffawed. “So ya spend ya whole life avoiding being lord o’ the Rock and now ya gunna be king?”

Jaime couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the absurdity of it all. “For now. I’ll need to find someone to abdicate to once the war with the dead is one. Ideally someone who doesn’t possess dragons and the personality of her father, the mad king.”

Bronn shared a knowing look and scratched his head. “Well I best find the guard and prepare them for a coronation tomorrow… ya Grace.” Bronn mocked a bow and turned to exit the throne room.

Jaime looked at the mess on the floor and mused how he so often found himself in this room, sovereignless, with a pool of blood at the stairs. _Time to write a letter. This alone could take hours._

Making his way back to his chamber, Jaime was not surprised to find Brienne already clothed and sleeping peacefully under the covers. He approached the bed slowly and smiled down at her. Reaching over, Jaime pulled the covers higher towards her chin and bent down to kiss her head. Making his way back to the desk in the corner, he sat down and pulled out some parchment.

_Tyrion,_

_I hope this letter reaches you in time. Cersei has betrayed us all. She meant to send no aid. Our bannermen were sent to the Neck to meet the victor of the battle you prepare to fight. She bought twenty-thousand sellswords from the Golden Company and Euron is set to return to King’s Landing within a fortnight to bolster the Westerlands army with the fresh troops. She also used Brienne as hostage to bait the Stormlands to take up her cause._

_Cersei is dead. I am taking control of our forces as next in line. I implore you to retreat to the Neck to meet our forces. I have a plan._

_Your brother,_

_Jaime_

Sealing the letter, Jaime brought it to the rookery to be sent at once. He also prepared several short letters; one to the Citadel, one for his commanders at the Neck, and a letter to each of remaining wardens of the seven kingdoms. All letters announced his sister’s death and his coronation on the morrow as next of kin.

Slipping back into his room, the sun had long since set and the moon cast a shadow across Brienne’s sleeping form. _You’re even more beautiful in the moonlight._

Jaime removed his tunic and breeches and climbed into bed behind Brienne. Subconsciously, she settled back against him as his body pressed closer to her. Tomorrow he would become King of Westeros... for now. _How unfortunate. What is a king to do? Seems the only reasonable course of action is to forge an alliance through marriage to strengthen his reign._ He had just the alliance in mind. A smile spread across Jaime’s face as he slipped into a peaceful slumber; his first in ages.


	7. The Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter start out as NSFW.
> 
> Jaime and Brienne get some alone time before an unexpected visitor.

Jaime blinked back the last vestiges of sleep and found he had not moved an inch during the night. The sun had not yet risen, and long, soft shadows still under the moon’s influence filled the room. Jaime’s right arm was pinned under Brienne’s pillow and his left arm had remained draped around her waist, but his hand seemed to have strayed to less innocent areas under her tunic and found itself tracing lazy circles over Brienne’s hardened nipple. Apparently, his cock had woken up before he had and was making its presence known in the small of Brienne’s back.

Brienne started to stir under his ministrations and Jaime decided to place an experimental kiss to Brienne’s neck. Brienne stiffened but did not bat him away. _Well this will end in one of two ways. Sated or with a cold compress to my jaw._

Jaime’s daring grew as he moved his hand up to tilt her chin in a bid to access her lips with his own. He propped himself up slightly on his right arm and when Brienne responded to the kiss, he deepened it. Slowly Jaime trailed his hand back down to her breast and renewed his focus on her nipple. His cock was straining at her back and his heart was racing. He knew if he pressed any further, it was going to kill him to stop. Breaking the kiss, but pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered a lust laden plea. “Tell me to stop and I will, but Gods Brienne I want you.”

Brienne’s tone matched his own. “Don’t stop.”

His cock twitched in pleasure at her words and he placed a searing kiss to her lips. His hand lowered to unlace her breeches as she rolled towards him; her body nearly flat on her back. _When I convince her to marry me, we’ll need to ban anything with laces from our bed._

Nearly tearing the offending laces off, Jaime dropped his hand into Brienne’s breeches and began gently stroking her clit; eliciting deep moans that he devoured with his mouth. Jaime experimentally dipped a finger into her folds and moved his thumb to resume the circular motions his index finger had been leading the charge on only moments before. He could feel Brienne’s inner walls tensing and he added another finger; dragging both in an out in rhythmic movements.

Suddenly Jaime felt Brienne’s lithe fingers hook into his smallclothes and push them off his hips. Jaime slowly moved to center himself over Brienne while removing his hand from her warmth to tug down at her breeches and smallclothes. They then made quick work of her tunic and Jaime settled between her long, lean legs. With his member at her entrance, Jaime pulled back to look into her eyes. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.” _Thank the Gods_. _This would surely be the death of me had I needed to stop_.

Jaime slowly sheathed himself into her folds; pausing to ensure she was comfortable. When he was buried to the hilt, Jaime began a slowly rocking moment. Bringing his left hand to one of her nipples, he lightly teased and pinched it, eliciting more deep moans from his lover. He could feel her walls tightening as she neared her peak. Looking deep into her eyes, Jaime hoped to convey everything he felt for her.

As Brienne spiraled over the edge, Jaime was soon to follow; spilling deep within her. Time seemed to stop as they laid in each other’s arms; Jaime not wanting to break their union even as he felt himself soften inside her.

Smiles spread across both of their faces. “Good morning.” Jaime chuckled and place a kiss to her lips.

“Good morning.” Brienne repeated; suddenly looking a bit shy.

“Brienne?”

“Yes?”

“I need to become temporary king for a bit. I will be coronated today if only so that I can control the incoming troops on behalf of the crown. Once the war is done, I intend to find someone suitable for the role to abdicate to.”

Seemingly confused by his stream of thoughts, Brienne nodded. “Yes, it makes sense.”

Jaime smiled at her before continuing. “It would be much more tolerable to endure playing temporary king if I had a temporary queen by my side. Will you marry me Brienne?”

Brienne smiled broadly at his words. _Gods she is beautiful. I’ve never seen her smile like that._

“Seems rather extreme to marry for the sake of tolerating a temporary position.”

A chuckle escaped his lips at that. “No, I rather mean to tolerate you for the rest of my life; no matter our station.”

“I suppose if we haven’t managed to kill each other yet, we could do a decent job of tolerating each other for the rest of our days.”

Jaime’s smile widened. “Is that a ‘yes’ wench?”

Brienne matched his smile “Yes, Jaime. I will be your temporary queen and lifelong wife who tolerates you.”

“Excellent! It would have been awkward had you said no with my cock is still inside you.”

Brienne swatted his arm that that, but Jaime grabbed it and brought it to rest of his heart. His eyes losing their mirth and taking on a serious look. “It will always be yours.”

After another round of tolerating each other, Jaime made his way to find Bronn; leaving Brienne to continue resting and getting some nourishment into her recovering body. Jaime couldn’t remove the ridiculous grin from his face and Bronn saw right through it immediately.

“I knew you two were fuckin’!”

Jaime cringed at the sellsword. “You’re a pig, you know that? You won’t speak a word of this vulgarity until we are wed. I don’t need her father running me through with a sword before we ride to meet the dead.” Looking around, Jaime continued. “So, is everything ready?”

Bronn nodded and gave Jaime the rundown. At midday, the City Guard, remaining Lannister bannerman, and soon to be Kingsguard would make their way to the throne room. Jaime would be crowned and the soldiers would swear their oaths of fealty to the new king. Fortunately for Jaime, every soldier detested Cersei to such an extent that they welcomed the new king with open arms.

The coronation was short and later that day, Jaime made his way back to his chambers to find Brienne. He had his crown tipped mockingly to one side and stalked towards her as she sat on the settee nibbling on the midday meal the household staff had dropped off. Jaime observed with delight a much-improved coloration to her skin despite the lingering bruises.

Brienne rolled her eyes at the sight before her and Jaime chuckled at her exasperation. “Do you like it? Does it make me prettier?”

Brienne guffawed at that and rolled her eyes again. “Yes, Jaime. You are very pretty. How will I survive the crushing disappointment of the instant decline to your looks when you lose that pretty little crown atop your golden head.”

Jaime laughed and moved to sit next to her; picking up a grape from the plate in front of them. “Sarcasm does not become you my lady. Far too Lannister and I’m trying to move away from that type of relationship.”

Before Brienne could retort, a swift knock came at the door. “Your Grace?” It was Jaime’s turn to roll his eyes now. He muttered to Brienne’s ears alone. “That title is unbearable.”

“Yes, enter.”

A young attendant walked into the room and stammered his announcement. “Your Grace, an army approaches the gates.”

Both Jaime and Brienne tensed and sat up straight. “Which army boy?” Jaime barked.

“I’m sorry your Grace, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know!? How do you NOT know? Do they bear no banners?”

“They do your Grace, but… I’ve never seen it before.”

Jaime exhaled in frustration, glaring at the boy. “What does it look like?”

The boy took pause as if conjuring an image in his mind. “It has quartered suns and moons. Blue and pink I think.”

Jaime and Brienne stood abruptly and looked at each other while speaking at the same time.

“My father!”

“Your father!”

Jaime continued. “They are early. They weren’t supposed to arrive for another two days.”

Brienne sighed. “For my father, that is on time.”

“Do you suppose he is very angry? He won’t attack the city, will he?” Jaime’s tone played at lightheartedness, but was tinted with worry. Brienne stiffened.

“Truthfully, I had not considered this much.” Brienne glanced out of the window nervously which only caused Jaime’s nerves to unravel a bit more. _Gods he is going to kill me._ Sensing his last opportunity to prepare for the meeting, Jaime touched Brienne’s arm to return her focus to him.

“What is he like?”

If Brienne’s reaction to his question was any indication, Jaime’s last thought of his fate may not be far off. 

Collecting her thoughts, Brienne looked Jaime in the eyes. “He can be rather… imposing. He also hasn’t left the island in the years I’ve been alive, so I imagine he is not in a great mood.” Brienne’s eyes started to dart about nervously.

“Right… So armor? I should wear my armor?”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “Maybe just be a little less… you.”

Jaime scoffed. “What is that supposed to mean!?”

“Remember how you behaved in the Riverlands before our capture?”

A mischievous smile flashed across Jaime’s feature. “I was the prefect gentleman. I thought we had a lovely time together.”

Brienne’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Exactly.” She inhaled sharply and continued “ Try a lot less of that if you prefer not to have my call for your squire to assist with the armor.”

Unable to get much more out of Brienne, the two made their way to the throne room. Moments later, a giant walked into the hall.

_Gods. He is the size of the Mountain. Mayhap even bigger! He also looks about as friendly as the Mountain._

Jaime stood at the base of the stairs with his Kingsguard flanking him. Lord Selwyn approached with half dozen Stormland commanders and lords flanking each side. Aside from his enormous figure, the man boasted wavy, shoulder length hair the shade of Brienne’s. A thick beard adorned his face and blue eyes poked out from below bushy brows. Jaime watched as Selwyn’s unamused glare scanned the room; seemingly taking note of the amount of guards he would need to run his sword through momentarily. Jaime could feel his pulse quicken. As Selwyn’s eyes scanned to the right of the room, his eyes landed on a vision that seemed to catch him unaware. _Brienne_.

Selwyn came to a halt, lips parted slightly in shock, as the man took in the sight of his only living child and heir. Sparring a glance at Brienne himself, Jaime was hit with the harsh reminder that she still looked quite the victim. A hesitant smile tugged at her lips as she looked back at her father.

Feeling the tension in the room, Jaime took a step forward and extended his left hand. “Lord Selwyn. Its an honor to meet you.”

Jaime watched as the older man’s eyes slowly moved back to him. Looking into Selwyn’s eyes was like watching a storm brew at sea. _Oh shit. Definitely not happy._

“Kingslayer. Where is _your_ _queen_? She sent me quite the letter and now I see my daughter standing there like a training dummy.”

Jaime flinched at the moniker and words but managed a tight smile. “My dear sister will not be joining us for the duration of your stay. I’m not certain which of the Seven Hells she is currently visiting, but I imagine she won’t be back anytime soon.”

Selwyn shot a quick glance to Brienne and then back to Jaime.

“What are you on about boy!?”

Then Brienne’s voice carried across the room. “Actually its ‘your Grace’, father. Not kingslayer. Not boy. Your Grace.”

Selwyn’s eyes bore into his daughter. After a moment’s pause, he collected himself. “I don’t particularly care what he deems to call himself. He has held hostage and beaten my daughter!”

“He has done no such thing!” Jaime watched the back and forth between the two and felt as though he was intruding on a private moment. “He saved me. That would be twice now by my score. My tormenter and Queen Cersei are dead now. He is King of the Seven Kingdoms and we need your help.”

Selwyn was incredulous. “My help!? Girl, I brought five thousand Stormlanders here to avenge our King’s death, the trueborn Baratheon king; not the bastard pretenders. We came to rescue _my_ daughter. You defend this man, the kingslayer? His sister conveniently dead and you stand before me looking as you do. Did they bash your head too hard into a wall girl!?”

“Enough!” Jaime couldn’t take it anymore. “You don’t have to help us, but your daughter plans to so you would be abandoning her and all of Westeros in the process. There is a far bigger threat coming than anything my sister had planned for all of us.”

Selwyn looked back at Jaime as if he had grown a second head. “What are you on about boy? What in the seven hells is going on here!?”

Jaime inhaled deeply and tried to explain. “We had a summit some weeks ago between Cersei, the North, and Daenerys Targaryen. I trust you’ve heard of her. Given proximity to Dragonstone, I imagine your island’s sheep may have been targeted by her dragons.”

When Selwyn made no move to refute awareness of the arrival of the Dragon Queen to Westeros, Jaime continued. “The North and Daenerys wanted to broker a truce to fight a common enemy; the dead. The Knight King has returned and with him, another Long Night.”

At this, Selwyn and his commanders exchanged confused glances with one another. After a heavy silence filled the room, Selwyn guffawed. “This is ridiculous. Brienne, come here. Enough of this nonsense. We are going home… now! I’ve put up with your playing at knight long enough. Now you stand there a shade of purple while this man tells me the dead walk.”

Jaime felt his heart sink. He knew it sounded absurd. He still couldn’t believe that thing he had seen in the Dragon Pit. He looked to Brienne whose eyes shown wild with desperation.

“It is true father! I’ve seen it. They brought one of those creatures with them to prove it! You have to believe us.”

Selwyn’s eyes brokered no argument. “I said enough of this nonsense Brienne! We are going home. You will come back to Tarth with us. Do your duty to your people. Marry and produce heirs! No more of these foolish games!”

Brienne’s face flushed a deep red and nearly blotted out any purpling on her skin.

“I will not leave for Tarth! I will however marry. I have agreed to marry Ser Jaime, King of the Seven Kingdoms. If you turn the Stormland forces around now, you will be defying an order by your king… and queen.”

Jaime was awestruck by the woman standing off to his side. _Gods I love her._ He had to forcibly pry his gaze from Brienne to return to find Selwyn’s shocked expression flitting between the two of them. Jaime donned an award-winning smile, took another step forward, and extended his left hand again.

“Good-father. Shall we start again? My name is Jaime.”


	8. The Map Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agreements are made and a strategy is discussed.

“Well that went better than expected.”

Jaime barked a laugh at Brienne. “Better than expected!? He threatened to castrate me!”

Brienne tried and failed to suppress a laugh. “Well its better than death. I thought that to be more likely at a few points.”

Jaime huffed in feigned disbelief. “Better than death? I’m not so sure about that.”

Dodging the pillow that came hurtling at his head, Jaime countered the downy blow with his weapon of choice; teasing.

“A threat to the King is a threat to the realm wench. You’ll need punishing for that.”

“Careful. Your attendants placed my father just a few doors down the hall. You still run the risk of castration if he realizes you mean for us to share a chamber.”

Jaime’s mirth dropped at that and Brienne realized at once that there was much truth in her words. _Gods, I can’t stay in here._

Jaime sulked for a bit before looking back to Brienne. “I suppose if our marriage is to remain _tolerable_ , I shouldn’t lose my cock. I’ll speak with a chambermaid about making up a room for you.”

_Brienne was at once relieved and disappointed._

That afternoon after the terrible welcome in the throne room, Brienne, Jaime, and Selwyn had a retreated to renew conversations in a more private setting. Selwyn believed they had both lost their grip on reality. Perhaps an unknown injury from their fight with the Mountain they had recounted. Swelling of the brain perhaps? Agreeing to disagree on the realness of this ‘threat’, the had at least agreed that Selwyn would _not_ kill Jaime and Jaime in turn would stop asking Selwyn if he was related to the Cleganes.

The three also agreed that Brienne and Jaime would make their vows before departing for the Neck. It would be a rushed ceremony, nothing grand, which better suited Brienne’s and Jaime’s tastes anyway. It seemed to be Selwyn’s only real disappointment on the matter… well outside of the face that the groom was the Kingslayer.

Selwyn had requested some time alone with his daughter before the evening meal which Brienne agreed to. She understood her father meant well even if he could be unyielding in certain matters. It was what lead her to the gardens in that moment.

“Hello father.” Turning to face her, Selwyn stood tall with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Now how about a proper greeting for your old father.” Extending his arms towards her, Brienne melted into his embrace. _Gods I forgot how small he can make me feel._

Pulling apart, Selwyn held her at the shoulders and appraised her. “Well I can’t say you look well child. I suppose I’ll have to take you at your word for how you’ve been.”

Brienne could not contain the deep eye roll which only served to elicit a booming laugh from her father.

“Father... I told you that I’m…” Selwyn cut her off before she could repeat herself.

“Yes, yes. I know. You’re ‘perfectly fine’. Can you even try to see this from my perspective? I haven’t seen you in years. I’ve received word from others of your whereabouts twice in your travels sine you left Tarth; once as a ransom letter from Bolton’s bandits and the second from Cersei threatening your life if I didn’t come fight for her unearned crown. From your mouth, I hear from you three times a year if I’m lucky and the messages are as short as your hair. I show up here worried that I merely fight for my daughter’s remains and I’m met with the Kinglsayer of all people, telling me you are to wed, and you stand before me appearing as though you had an entire keep fall on you.”

Brienne sighed and merely shrugged. “I suppose when you put it like that…”

“Gods girl… you’ll be the death of me yet.” Selwyn huffed and looked out over the bay below. Sighing he looked back to her. “Are you happy? Does this boy make you happy? I don’t give a damn about his bloody war with zombies. I want to know if you want this.”

“With all my heart father, I do. He is a good man and there is honor in him. I’ve seen it. Were it not for Jaime, Bolton’s ransom letter would have been the last you ever heard of me or from me. He saved me when he had no reason to. He lost his hand defending me from rape. He armed me and armored me. Sent me to fulfill my oath and killed his own sister for me. And please stop with the ‘kingslayer’ bit. If you knew why he did that, you wouldn’t use the term. It’s not my story to tell, but he has done far more good than he has harm in this world.”

Selwyn offered a begrudging smile. “You are stubborn as this day has been long. No matter. As long as he treats you well, I won’t intercede. Besides, I think this is the most you’ve spoken to me in years so I suppose I can at least thank him for that. Now about the hair…” Selwyn cast a disapproving glance at her blonde waves.

“Father!”

The two resumed their walk, discussing less contentious topics before meeting with Jaime for dinner. Luckily the dinner went better than the reception in the throne room. Jaime was _almost_ on his best behavior and managed to win a few guffaws from Selwyn. Unnoticed to Brienne was her father’s close observation of her banter with Jaime and the not so subtle longing stares from Jaime when Brienne wasn’t looking.

Walking with Selwyn back towards their assigned rooms, Brienne prepared for more barbs as her father moved to speak.

“The boy never shuts up, does he?”

Brienne smiled slightly, memories of the Riverlands before their capture playing out in her mind. “No, he doesn’t. Just chatters incessantly.”

“Well for better or for worse, he loves you. That much is clear. He looks at you like a man eyeing water in a desert. Mayhap I should have a guard stand outside your door least he get any ideas not befitting a king.”

Brienne could feel her face burn at his words and if her father’s facial expression was any indication, Jaime might need to sleep a few kingdoms over tonight. Maybe the dead would go easier on him.

“Well then… a guard it shall be. Goodnight little star. Try to get some rest. You still look like shit.”

Later that week, Jaime pulled his remaining officers, Bronn, Brienne, her father, and the other leaders from the Stormlands into the map room for a makeshift war council. Standing over the map of Westeros, Jaime laid out his plan.

Pointing to the Neck, Jaime began. “The Lannister forces are here. I’ve sent word ahead that the North will fall back to them imminently. If they began to clear out from Winterfell when the raven would have arrived, they are likely a fortnight removed. The Golden Company should be in the capital within a week. I’ll need to deal with them on behalf of the crown and escort them to the Neck. Given the size of their forces, that should take just shy of a fortnight.”

Jaime looked to one of his commanders. “Have you loaded the barrels as instructed?”

“Yes your Grace. The men began loading them yesterday and they are nearly ready to go. Everything we found.”

Jaime nodded cautiously. “Good. We need to be very careful with those.” Turning back to leaders from the Stormlands, he continued. “The Neck will force the dead to funnel through a contained area. One of many downsides to my late sister’s paranoia was her order to have the maetser create wildfire by the barrels.”

The room uttered a collective gasp at the information. Jaime pressed on. “The dead can only be killed by fire, dragon glass, or valyrian steel. My plan is to draw the dead into the Neck and destroy them in mass by wildfire. Whatever remains of their forces after we’ve expended the wildfire will be evenly matched by our numbers. I was thinking we could use Tarth’s archers to light the barrels from a safe distance as they approach. I hear they are quite good.”

Jaime gave a knowing look at Brienne and Selwyn who beamed with pride. Tarth was infamous for its archery as was necessary to defending an island between Westeros and Essos. The two had put on quite the show earlier that day.

Brienne looked around the room and saw nods of acknowledgement at the plan. It made a lot of sense when Jaime first told her of it. It limited civilian impact and contained destruction to buildings by engaging the enemy in the narrow, open field at the Neck. It also found a reasonable use for such a dangerous solution and served to even the odds greatly.

Jaime looked at Brienne next; somewhat apologetically. “We can’t wait for the Golden Company to leave as the wildfire needs to be moved carefully and slowly. Brienne, I’ll need you to lead the forces from the Stormlands and the remaining Lannister bannerman out tomorrow. The troops will also need time to dig trenches and scout the area for the best places to lay the barrels. You will command the Lannister men already at the Neck until my arrival.”

“Me? Why me?”

“You’ll be queen. I was thinking we could expedite exchanging our vows from end of week to say… tonight?”

_Oh gods. He has that mischievous look in his eyes. If this is some way for him to get back in my bed as it is currently blocked by two rather unfriendly guards..._

Brienne observed as the mirth in his eyes became serious. “As Queen, my men will listen to whatever you say. As heir to Tarth and one of their own, the Stormlands will follow you. They did after all come all the way here to fight for you. When the North arrives, they will listen to the plan because you will give it. There is not better knight for the job.”

Brienne scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m no knight. I’m not a leader.”

Jaime fully turned to face her. “Of course, you are! The finest knight I ever met and a strong leader.”

Brienne could feel her face flaming with irritation and muttered. “Jaime, you know I am not. It’s tradition.”

Jaime beamed at her. “Fuck tradition. You have embodied what it means to be a knight more than all the knights I know combined; myself included. Besides, I’m King and can do what I want.” _There is that cheeky grin again._ “I’ll prove it.”

Jaime unsheathed his sword and pointed to the space on the floor before him. “Kneel Lady Brienne.”

Brienne snorted and looked away, waiting for the laughter to come. When nothing happened, she looked back at Jaime and a wordless conversation seemed to pass between them. _Gods he is serious_. Looking to her father to see if he would call Jaime out for such nonsense, she saw only a look of pride.

Suddenly, Bronn spoke up. “I heard ya kicked the Hound’s ass in single combat. Ya certainly have the talent for it.”

A commander from the Stormlands spoke next. “I was at Bitterbridge were you won the melee and bested Ser Loras to win a position on Renly’s Rainbow Guard. Kicked everyone’s ass that day!”

A Lannister bannerman spoke enthusiastically next. “I heard you fought a bear!” Brienne and Jaime chuckled at that one. _It seems some things have become quite a bit embellished in the camps._

As if Jaime’s smile couldn’t possibly get any wider, it managed to as he took in everyone’s words. Then he chimed in. “You kept your oath to Catelyn Stark to find her daughters. You brought Lady Sansa home and protected her. You scarified yourself to Cersei’s machinations in attempt to get the North and the living the aid they need. I would say you _more_ than qualify. Now do you want to be a knight or not?”

Brienne slowly kneeled as she slowly realized that these men were being honest. They meant no jape or mockery at her expense.

Jaime lifted his sword to her shoulder.

“In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.  
In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just.  
In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.  
Arise, Brienne of Tarth a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Brienne felt as though her heart would explode. Everything she ever dreamed of and hoped for had just been granted to her. A recognition from peers from whom she only ever experienced scorn and mockery; she now had respect and admiration. 

As she rose to her feet, it felt as though the room had fallen away and it was just her and Jaime. Distantly, she heard the men’s clapping and cheers. They seemed to break the trance between her and Jaime. She turned just in time to meet the crushing embrace of her father.


	9. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A marriage and a letter

Jaime stood at the terrace overlooking the bay, waiting for Brienne and Selwyn. The sun was setting and casting golden shadows across the yard and onto the garden paths below. This balcony had been the same that he and Brienne stood at some years ago while observing Sansa from afar and discussing the best approach to getting her to safety. Or rather, Brienne scolding Jaime about his oath to Lady Catelyn and Jaime teasing her as he enjoyed doing.

“You sure you’re not a Lannister? You’ve got the hair for it if not the looks.” _Well you will be one shortly._

Now he stood beside Bronn and a Septon awaiting his Queen. He couldn’t remove the smile from his face if his life depended on it. He was dressed in a smart red doublet with black breeches and Widow’s Wail strapped around his waist. A crimson and gold Lannister cloak adorned his shoulders.

Then he caught sight of her. The setting sun cast a beautiful glow off her hair and face. Most would fixate on the fading bruises or her unnaturally tall form, but all Jaime saw were sapphire pools, kissable lips, and rosy cheeks. Given how quickly this had to be pulled together, Brienne was able to avoid the dress her father was insisting upon. The seamstress was however able to take some of the Tarth colors from excess clothing brought by the Stormlanders to get Brienne into her house colors. She had on a blue and silver jerkin that the seamstress had altered to a more flattering, feminine line. Paired with dark breeches and Oathkeeper at her hip, she looked the spitting image of a warrior bride.

“Gods ya look like a lovesick fool. Tone it down the gawkin’ ya Grace.” Jaime turned to see Bronn feigning annoyance at Jaime’s overt show of undying adoration for his betrothed. Jaime smirked back at the sellsword turned friend. “Leave me be or I’ll have my soon to be wife run you through.”

The Septon cleared his throat as a less than subtle reminder to cease their chatter. Brienne and Selwyn stopped before them and Selwyn gave a nod to Jaime.

The Septon instructed Jaime. “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Bronn muttered loud enough for all to hear. “More like ‘er protecting ‘is ass.” Jaime kicked his leg back into Bronn’s shin and proceeded to cloak Brienne.

The Septon continued. “We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. You may now look upon each other and say the words.”

Brienne and Jaime smiled at one another and spoke in unison.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and his is mine. From this day until the end of my days.”

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” Jaime concluded the vows and leaned in for a kiss that, if the throat clearing from the Septon and Selwyn was any indication of, he was a little too enthusiastic. _Bronn seemed to appreciate it at least._

Walking back to the castle to the small feast that awaited them, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand with his left and pulled it towards his chest; above his heart. He mouthed loving words to her, but then the mischief was back in his eyes.

“Lord Selwyn.” Jaime cocked his head to his new good-father. “Do you suppose we can do away with the guards for tonight?” Seeing the older man’s consternation only served to egg Jaime on. _He is wonderfully irritated with me. I can see where Brienne has learned the art of the eye roll and huff of frustration from._

The dinner was lowkey and quick given the need for the forces to move out on the morrow. Jaime wanted to ensure he got in every minute possible with his wife. Walking back to _their_ rooms, Jaime looped an arm around Brienne’s waist and stared into her eyes. _How did I not find a way to her sooner in life?_

As they approached the door to their chambers, Jaime pushed it open and guided Brienne in first. Following her in and pushing the door shut, he quickly grabbed her arm and spun her around to meet his lips. Wrapping his arms around her lean body, Jaime began walking her backwards towards the bed placing searing kisses down her face and neck. They made quick work of their clothing and stood before each other, naked as their name days.

Jaime felt his heartbeat race as he took in the sight of Brienne bathed in the moonlight; her body nearly healed of its bruising. Stalking towards her slowly, he guided her down onto the bed and up towards the pillows. As their lips locked in passion, Jaime brought up his left hand to her cheek, caressing her soft, pale skin. He felt Brienne’s hands through his hair and come to rest cupping his face.

Jaime broke the kiss and drifted lower and lower until his head was nestled between her thighs.

“What are you…” Jaime cut Brienne off with a sly grin and shushing.

“Just relax _wife_. Trust me.” Then he dipped his head between her legs and placed gentle kisses and nips to her bud. He continued his ministrations while placing a finger insider her folds. Brienne arched her back in pleasure and Jaime added another finger. As he sensed Brienne nearing her peak, he replaced his fingers with his tongue; drawing it in and out teasingly as she spasmed under him.

As she gasped for breath, he made his way back up her body and pushed into her. Looping her leg over his hip, he continued at a desperate pace, pushing them both over the edge together; his seed spilling into her. The lay wrapped in each other’s arms; kissing and nipping. Both refused to break contact and Jaime couldn’t bring himself to remove his now softened cock from her warmth. After some time trailing loving caresses and deep kisses, Jaime soon felt his cock stirring again. They had each other a couple more times that night before both fell into a deep sleep.

Jaime jolted at the sound of aggressive knocking at their chamber door. _What the fuck. If its those blasted guards again…_

Quickly throwing on his breeches and looking back to ensure Brienne was covered, Jaime opened the door to see Bronn.

“This better be good!”

Bronn shoved a scroll in his hand, an unbroken Targaryen seal. _Fuck._

Jaime opened the letter and gasped at the words.

_Brother,_

_Winterfell has fallen. Lady Stark refused to leave her ancestral home despite your warnings. There are roughly 1,000 of us that remain between the forces of the North, Vale, Wildlings, Dothraki, and Unsullied. Daenerys has fallen along with her largest dragon. They are now part of the Night King’s army. I am writing you from Castle Cerywn where we are a week out from the Neck. Our march has been slow as we have many wounded. Luckily the only thing slower than us is death. Jon Snow rides the remaining living dragon. I pray your plan is strong brother._

_Yours,_

_Tyrion_

Jaime handed the letter to Bronn and watched as his face quickly mirrored his own. “Well fuck me. At least ya brother got out. Fuckin’ Starks and their bloody castle. Even I don’t want one that bad.”

Jaime sighed and looked back to meet Bronn’s eyes. “Tell the men to be ready by first light. It seems we don’t have much time to waste.”

Watching Bronn stride down the hallway, Jaime closed the door and looked back at Brienne’s sleeping form on the bed. _Gods, please don’t let me lose her._

At first light, the men were ready to leave. Brienne stood at the head of the five thousand strong Stormland forces and the few Lannister bannerman they could spare. Jaime handed her a sealed scroll and instructed her to find Ser Addam Marbrand and Ser Daven Lannister when she arrived at the Neck. Before she could mount her horse, Jaime pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’m getting quite tired of watching you leave wench. No more after this.”

Jaime felt Brienne smile into his cheek. “And you be safe Jaime.”

_Still Jaime. Just Jaime._

Jaime helped Brienne mount her horse and watched as Selywn approached on his mount. “Don’t worry boy, I’ll keep your wife safe. I have a vested interest in that.” A smile tugged at the older man’s lips.

Jaime’s eyes lowered to Selwyn’s shield. _Is that? It can’t be._ Catching Jaime’s stare, Selwyn huffed a laugh. “My grandfather, Ser Duncan the Tall. I told you I’m no damn Clegane.”

Jaime’s head snapped back to Brienne’s. “You’re related to Ser Duncan!? Gods you’re marvelous.”

Brienne snickered at that. “Only you would find that an attractive quality in a wife.”

Jaime balked. “Remember wench, there are no men like me. Only me.” With a smile and one last longing glance, Brienne was off. In the distance, Jaime heard Selwyn bark at his daughter. “Did that boy just call you ‘wench’!?”

Jaime was transported back to a similar sendoff from King’s Landing. Pod at Brienne’s side and Bronn snickering from behind him. _Gods, Pod! I hope the poor boy is alright. If not we may not need the wildfire. Brienne will kill all the dead herself._

The week passed quickly enough considering all Jaime could do was think of Brienne and dodge Bronn’s merciless mocking over how lovesick and lost Jaime was without his queen. _In fairness, he is right. I don’t mean to spend another day apart from Brienne when this is done. Making we don’t part will likely end up saving my only remaining hand too. It’s gone nearly stiff with overuse from the lonely nights with only Brienne’s scent to fill my nose._

“You Grace. The Golden Company approaches the gates.” _I’m coming Brienne. I’ll be there soon._

Jaime made his way down to the throne room donning his crown. _Time to pretend at being a king_. He sat on the throne and awaited what was sure to be an enjoyable conversation. Moments later, in strode the Golden Company lead by Commander Strickland and Euron Greyjoy.

Jaime waited for the moment of realization when Euron looked to the throne and saw the wrong Lannister twin. Jaime could feel his lips curling in amusement as the pirate’s eyes darted around the room; seemingly searching for the other golden twin.

“Commander Strickland. Welcome to King’s Landing. I trust your journey was reasonable despite the company.” Jaime then looked to Euron. “Hello Euron. How we’ve missed you and your two good hands here.”


	10. The Pirate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Euron and Jaime come face to face. Jaime meets some other Greyjoys

“Where is the queen, kingslayer?” Euron’s tone dripped with hate and disdain.

Jaime smirked at the pirate. “Tell me Euron, was your hope to marry Cersei? To rule alongside her.”

Euron flashed a devilish grin. “Aye. As I said, a queen needs a real man to warm her bed; not some cripple brother chasing her skirts.”

Jaime’s smile gave away nothing. “Oh well to be clear, I have married the queen.”

Euron’s face fell and his fists clenched. “You can’t do that. No septon would wed brother and sister!”

Jaime guffawed, throwing his head back. “No, I don’t imagine they would. The new queen of Westeros is Brienne of Tarth. My sister is dead Euron, and you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder of the former Queen Cersei.”

Euron’s eyes widened in shock. “You fuckin’ cunt. What have you done!?”

Jaime smiled thinly; it did not reach his eyes. “All I’ve done is avenge her death. She was killed by that creature the mountain at the behest of Qyburn… and you. Qyburn confessed on death that you planned to poison the queen after wedding her. Qyburn feared Cersei was losing her grip on reality and a stronger ruler was needed. You sought to play the part of King.”

“Lies!” The pirate was enraged and quickly found himself surrounded by Kingsguard. Euron unsheathed his sword.

“I wouldn’t do that Euron. Go peacefully and await your trial.” Jaime stared down at Euron as the man began swinging wildly at the guards attempting to surround him.

It was too late. The pirate stabbed a guard, but two Kingsguard stepped in to strike the pirate at the same time. Jaime did not doubt the man would either bleed out or die of infection.

“Well that is most unfortunate. We no longer have a maester on staff. Guards, throw him in the cells. The Seven may see fit to judge him before we can.”

With Euron carried away, Jaime shifted his focus back to Commander Strickland who looked entirely unphased by the scene which had just unfolded.

“Commander Strickland. My apologies for the bloody welcome. As you heard, my sister is dead, but as you made a contract with the crown, I trust this will not be problematic for you.

Commander Strickland inclined his head at the new sovereign. “Not at all your Grace.”

Jaime cast a beaming smile. “Perfect. Tell me, how soon can your men be prepared to march out of the city? The threat my sister contracted you for is moving south as we speak and we are to meet with our allied forces at a location just shy of a fortnight from here.”

Ever the professional, Commander Strickland spoke confidently to his new financer. “We can be ready to set out at first light on the morrow. My men will prepare everything before then and only require a meal.”

Jaime turned to Bronn. “Ser Bronn. Could you inform the staff that we have a rather large army to feed? They may need to pull in resources to help from the local inns and taverns. After that, take the city guard with you to the docks. The Greyjoy men will either support the crown despite the actions of Euron or they will join him in the cells.”

With a slightly mocking bow, Bronn was off to meet with the staff and Jaime turned back to the Golden Company commander. “Lets quickly discuss the battle plans while my staff gets a hot meal prepared for your men.”

As Jaime and Commander Strickland discussed battle plans, Bronn entered the map room with a group of half dozen guards at his heel. Looking up from the map, Jaime shot a perplexed look towards the sellsword.

“There’s a bit of a _disagreement_ at the docks between the Greyjoys. Ya might want to head down with us.”

 _Fucking pirates._ “Are they fighting our men? Should we send for some of the Golden Company to join us?”

Bronn huffed a laugh. “Not exactly. It seems they’re havin’ a squabble amongst themselves. They’re fightin’ each other.”

“Each other? They are fighting each other?”

Bronn’s eyebrows shot up in agreement at the absurdity of it. “Aye. Our men are tryin’ to break it up.”

As they made their way down to the docks, Jaime observed his guards detaining two groups. Both groups of Ironborn were chained and shouting at one another as the guards tried in vain to shut them up.

Jaime approached and looked to one of the captains. “What the fuck is going on here.”

The guard bowed and pointed to one of the groups. “This lot just arrived to port and began assaulting the Greyjoys already docked. They fly the same banners.”

“They kidnapped my sister! The rightful heir to the Iron Islands!” Jaime looked past his captain to the man who had just spoken. _Why does he look so familiar?_

“And you are?”

“Theon Greyjoy! My sister Yara was taken prisoner by my Uncle Euron.”

Jaime chuckled at the absurdity of it. “Bring him over here.”

The guards yanked Theon forward and Jaime suddenly remembered where he knew the boy from. _The Dragon Pit. Winterfell._

“You were Ned Stark’s ward, weren’t you?”

“Aye.” Theon tilted his chin defiantly.

“And you stood with Jon Snow’s men at the Dragon Pit?”

Jaime watched as Theon hesitated at the question. His eyes darted back to his men.

“I am Ironborn and will fight for my kin, but aye, I owe a debt to the Starks. I intend to help them in his war.”

Jaime smiled at the man. “Good. My sister betrayed the living and sought to send no aid after some consideration.”

Jaime watched as panic appeared to grip Theon. _The boy thinks I mean to follow suit._

“My sister is dead. I am now king of Westeros and I see fit to honor our pledge to the living.” At Jaime’s declaration, Theon visibly relaxed.

“Will the Ironborn follow you?”

Theon looked around the men and shook his head solemnly. “No, but they will follow Yara.”

“Well where is Yara?” Jaime asked in obvious exasperation.

Theon pointed to the other group of detained Ironborn. “They have her. We came here to rescue her.”

Jaime looked back to the other group of miscreants. _Bloody pirates can’t even get along with each other._

“You there.” Jaime shouted to one of the men. “Where is Yara?”

The Ironborn looked amongst his fellow detainees before pointed to one of the docked ships “Captain’s quarters.”

Giving a nod to the Kingsguard, Jaime watched as his men boarded the ship to retrieve Yara Greyjoy. Moments later, a chained and beaten Yara emerged, led by the Kingsguard.

“You must be Yara Greyjoy. You brother here was trying to stage a rescue.”

Jaime observed the silent exchange between siblings.

Yara turned back to Jaime. “Aye, I’m Yara.”

“Your brother here claims you are the rightful ruler of the Iron Islands. Is that correct?”

Similar to her brother, Yara’s chin tilted up in defiance. “Aye, I am. My uncle felt otherwise and stole my ships and crew.”

“Will they follow you?”

Yara’s confidence waivered slightly at Jaime’s question. “Depends. Where is my uncle.”

Jaimie gave a sly grin. “Indisposed. I wouldn’t count on him to command much of anything.”

Yara gave a knowing smile and turned back to the groups of Ironborn. “What say you men? Will you follow the rightful heir of the Iron Islands?”

Jaime observed as the group of Ironborn having previously sided with Euron looked amongst themselves before finally, one of them spoke up. “What is dead may never die.”

Soon, all the men were chanting the phrase towards Yara. Theon’s group of Ironborn joined in.

Yara slowly turned back to Jaime. “It seems they won’t have an issue following my command.”

Jaime nodded and looked between the two siblings again. “Good. Your brother here swore a pledge to fight for the living alongside Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen. The latter has already been taken by the dead, but the former awaits our aid at the Neck. We march out on the morrow and I think I know how the Ironborn can be of use. Come with me to the castle. We have much to discuss.”

Yara and Theon followed Jaime back to the castle where they made haste to the map room. Jaime brought them up to speed on the situation and battle plans. Then Jaime explained how the Ironborn could be of us.

“You will sail your fleet into the inlet at the Neck. This will enable us to place wildfire barrels deeper into the neck and along its northern shores. Your archers will be able to reach angles to light the wildfire that our forces on land can’t reach. We can place some archers from Tarth on your ships to help with the lighting of the wildfire.”

Yara chuckled which brought Jaime’s direction to a halt.

“Do you mock Tarth’s archers?”

Yara shook her head in denial. “They are the best to the east of Westeros. I’ve seen them fight before and their arrows are as precise as the bite of valyrian steel. But… Tarth is not the only island that needs to perfect their skill with a bow and arrow to protect their people. My Ironborn are equally deadly with the weapon. The best in the west.”

Jaime felt a smile tug at his lips. “Well that is settled then. Your men will shoot flaming arrows to light the wildfire from boat. The Tarth archers will remain ashore and light the barrels they can reach.”

As Jaime turned to leave, Yara spoke up. “Your Grace. What of my uncle?”

Jaime turned back to the woman with a look that did not mask his distaste for the pirate in question. “I hope you aren’t too fond of your uncle. He didn’t take kindly to my guards arresting him.”

A grin spread across Yara’s face. “Does he live?”

“For now. He will either bleed out or die of infection. It is not of my concern.”

Yara’s smile grew wider. “I would rather he bled out. I would be happy to serve the crown’s justice in that regard.”

Jaime looked between the two siblings again. _Thank the Gods I’m not related to these people._

“If you were to pay a visit to your uncle, I will claim no responsibility for the state in which you leave him.”

Yara looked back to Theon before returning her gaze to Jaime. “Excellent.”

Jaime looked back to Bronn who had been sitting in the corner, peeling an apple with his blade. “Ser Bronn. Our friends here would like to pay a visit to their dear uncle. Would you mind escorting them?”

A wolfish grin spread across Bronn’s face. “Aye. I’ll take ya to the cunt. Right this way.”

Yara and Theon gave a slight bow to Jaime before following the sellsword to the cells. Jaime looked back to the map doing a final run through in his mind. _I’ll be there soon Brienne._


	11. The Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double posting day! IBrienne arrives at the Neck. She comes face to face with some of the survivors from Winterfell.

Brienne could see the outline of crimson tents and Lannister banners as they neared the Neck. Smirking to herself, Brienne thought back to a similar vision of red and gold at the siege of Riverrun. From her side, Selwyn sighed loudly. “How long do we need to stay out in these fields with Lannisters before we agree that this fable of yours is just that?”

Brienne’s’ eyes rolled as she turned to look at her father. “I do hope you come to make peace with being in the presence of Lannisters. Who knows, there may even be a brood of them running about Tarth someday.” Brienne cast a teasing grin at her father who feigned horror.

“You know I’ve had a very trying moon’s turn and if I need to put up with much more of this nonsense than I fear I won’t get to see that brood of yours.” Selwyn turned his head to look back towards the camps and grimaced. “Delightful. Here comes the welcome party.”

Turning to follow her father’s line of sight, Brienne watched as half dozen Lannister bannerman approached. The two bannerman in the middle appeared to be more senior ranking officers. One of the men had flaming red hair, a broad set, and a thick beard the color of his crown. The other looked the part of a Lannister. He had golden hair and a defined chin.

As the welcome party reached them, the red headed man was the first to speak. “You must be the Stormland forces. I’m Addam Marbrand. This fine fellow here is Daven Lannister.”

Brienne smiled warmly at the men. “Seven blessings. I’m Brienne of…”

“Brienne of Tarth.” Addam interrupted. “Oh we remember you, my lady. Riverrun.”

Brienne felt a slight blush creep up her neck. _I don’t recall meeting these men there._

As if reading her mind, Daven spoke quickly. “My cousin wouldn’t shut up about you. Unfortunately, we didn’t have the pleasure of meeting before he let you past the siege to treat with the Blackfish.”

Brienne could feel her blush deepen and remembered the letter that Jaime has asked her to deliver to them. Taking it from her jerkin, Brienne handed the letter to Addam. Addam opened it quickly and let out a chuckle after reading it. He passed it quickly to Daven who looked equally amused.

“My apologies Ser Brienne _Lannister_ or rather, you Grace.” Addam looked to Daven again who chimed in. “Well we best follow our orders before her grace here has us join the ranks of the Unsullied.” Daven handed the letter back to Brienne who quickly read Jaime’s sloppy writing.

_Addam, Daven,_

_This is Ser Brienne Lannister, my wife, and your queen. I bid you follow all her orders explicitly lest she run you through with her sword. I assure you she won’t hesitate to do so. She has already bested me and the Hound in single combat._

_Jaime_

Brienne huffed in consternation and looked back to the men. “You mentioned the Unsullied. There are some of them here?”

Addam gave a slight nod of the head. “Aye, the retreat from the North arrived a few days ago. A handful of Unsullied, Wildlings, men from the Vale, and Northmen. Most are quite badly injured and our camp healers have been trying to treat them. Your goodbrother is here as well. We can take you to him.”

Brienne nodded affirmatively before replying. “Yes, thank you.” From her side, Brienne could hear her father pointedly clearing his throat. “Oh apologies. Ser Addam, Ser Daven, this is my father, Lord Selwyn Tarth.”

As if noticing the man for the first time, both men let out an audible gasp. It was Ser Addam who spoke first. “My Gods, you’re as big as the Cleganes. Do you have any relation?”

“Oh by the Gods, you Lannisters are exhausting.” Selwyn barked at the two before him as they both let out guffaws.

“So you have been around Jaime long enough then. Come to camp with us. We’ll tell you stories of you goodson that is sure to give you amble fodder for future dealings.”

As they moved into camp, Selwyn instructed his captains where to setup the Stormland tents. Brienne followed Addam and Daven deeper into the Lannister camp until they came to stop before one of the tents. Addam pulled back the tent flap and called out “Oye Tyrion. Your goodsister is here.”

From the depths of tent, Brienne could hear Tyrion scoff. “What in the seven hells are you on about Addam!” As Tryion poke his head out of the tent, his jaw dropped to see Brienne.

“Lady Brienne! You’re here. By the Gods we were all so worried about you after the Dragon Pit. Please, do come in.”

Brienne followed Tyrion inside and scanned the room. Modest by Lannister standards, there was a cot in one corner and a table with a jug of wine and some food in the center.

“Lord Tyrion. How are you? Aside from your letter, we haven’t heard anything of the battle with the dead and your retreat.”

Tyrion sighed and offered a seat. “Well as my letter described, Lady Stark refused to leave her ancestral home and insisted that the castle was already prepared for the battle. She felt it poor judgement to relocate the men, supplies, and weapons. Most everyone disagreed with her, including her own family. Stubborn. Blasted stubborn woman.” Tyrion tensed in anger and Brienne could only imagine what they had all endured when the dead arrived.

Brienne implored Tyrion to continue and Tyrion took a steadying breath. “We stood no chance. The dead surrounded us from all sides. I admit that I can’t speak very well to what happened during the battle. I was in the crypts with the women, children, and crippled men who could not fight.”

_In the crypts? Didn’t they say the Night King raises the dead?_

“Forgive me Tyrion, but at the Dragon Pit, didn’t Jon say that the Night King could raise the dead? Add to his army? Seems an odd decision to put so many who can’t fight in the crypts with generations of dead Starks.”

Tyrion barked a laugh at that and took a large sip of wine. He poked a finger in her direction. “Precisely my lady! If only we had that type of keen intellect when we laid out the battle plans.”

_Does he mock me?_

Huffing in irritation, Brienne asked the question she had been dreading. “It was unclear from your letter who survived. Am I to assume the worst of Arya and Sansa? And what of Pod?”

Tyrion snapped his head up to meet her eyes. “You don’t know? My apologies, I understand that my missive was clipped. We didn’t know how far behind our retreat the dead were. Sansa and Arya Stark live. Unfortunately, Bran is lost to us. The Night King came for him in the Godswood. Jon tried to fight the creature, but was overpowered easily. He narrowly escaped with his life and were it not for the remaining dragon coming to his aid and whisking him off, I fear that would have been the end of him.”

Relief washed over Brienne. _Thank the Gods!_ “And Pod? Does he live?”

Tyrion’s smile turned soft. “He does. Unfortunately, he is quite injured, but he is here in the camp. He is the one who retreated to the crypts to save us. He got us out and guided us to meet with the retreating party.”

A mix of pride and worry washed over Brienne at the news of Pod. Before she could think on it further, Tyrion spoke.

“And you Lady Brienne? Are you… alright? I can only imagine what you have endured at the hands of my sister.”

Brienne recounted the tale. Tyrion sat enraptured by the saga and his brows shot up towards the ceiling on several occasions. Brienne did request Tyrion keep it to himself that Cersei died by Jaime’s hands. She explained the ruse they used to indict the Mountain and Qyburn. The ruse they needed to keep from being sent to the cells themselves and the Golden Company to contract.

“Well my lady, or rather… my goodsister”, a wry smile tugged at Tyrion’s lips, “it seems we have you to thank for saving us then.”

“What do you mean? I hardly did anything.”

Tyrion smiled softly. “I never thought anything could break the spell my sister had Jaime under. Were it not for you, I am confident he would never have killed her which of course means, there would be no aid for our retreat. No aid for humanity.” Tyrion’s head turned to the side as his brows furrowed together. His next works barely audible. “How did I not see this before? At the dragon pit, I surely should have seen it there. I’ve never seen anyone speak to Jaime the way you did.” Tyrion huffed a laugh as the memory played out in his mind.

Brienne didn’t quite know what to make of his words. She had not thought much of the consequences of Jaime’s rescue of her, but the understanding hit her abruptly.

Tyrion looked back to her. “I should have known when you returned him from the Riverlands. I should have known it when I saw the Lannister sword at your hip in the pit. When you spoke to him. When my sister demanded your surrender.”

Brienne smiled lightly at Tyrion. “What matters is we are here now. I would like to bring everyone together to share Jaime’s plan for defense, but first I would much appreciate seeing Lady Sansa and Lady Arya.

Tyrion’s returning smile was equally soft. “Of course, _your Grace_.” A smile tugged at his lips and both chuckled.

“Yes well, Jaime and I will need you to help find someone worthy of the title when this is all said and done. We do not wish to rule.”

Tyrion chuckled. “You are both quite similar in that regard. Lets think on that when we can confirm the undead won’t sit on the throne.” Tyrion rose from his seat and pointed Brienne towards the tent exit. The two walked and made idle chat until they approached another tent; this one closer to the tents housing the injured. Pulling back the flap, Tyrion announced themselves.

“Lady Sansa. Lady Arya. I have someone here for you.”

As Brienne entered the tent, she saw the two women sitting at the table in the midst of a heated debate. Both Stark girls’ heads snapped to attention and a smile washed over their features.

“Lady Brienne!” Sansa exclaimed and ran towards her sworn sword, throwing her arms around the woman.

“I believe it is Ser Brienne now” Tyrion piped up from beside her.

Sansa looked between the two and smiled back at her friend with pride. “Well I’m glad something good has come of all this. I never knew anyone more deserving of the title. Please sit.”

The four sat at the table and much to Brienne’s vexation, she recounted the tale yet again. For this recounting, she indicated that she was freed from her cell by Jaime after Cersei’s death. As her tale concluded, she noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere of the tent.

Sansa’s face grew cold as she listened to Brienne conclude the story.

“So you married the enemy. And now you are queen of the seven kingdoms. Seems rather convenient for someone meant to be a hostage.” At Sansa’s statement, all three shot an shocked look at the young woman.

“My lady, Ser Jaime is not our enemy. He means to aid us.”

Sansa laughed. “Not our enemy!? He sat in King’s Landing for weeks knowing no aid would come. It wasn’t until that monster killed Cersei that he moved to act. Of course, he married you now. His love is dead.”


	12. The Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime arrives at the Neck. A final war council is called.

It had been just over a day since the tense meeting with Sansa. Arya had found Brienne later that day to apologize. It was evident from their conversation that Arya and Sansa were struggling to remain on speaking terms and there was more to Sansa’s outburst than met the eye. Brienne instead spent the day in the company of Pod and Tyrion. Pod had taken a horrific blow to the leg and the healers worried he may lose the limb if the infection spread. Brienne’s stomach rolled at the thought of it.

Brienne was also saddened to learn of the many who fell during the battle of Winterfell. All remaining men of the Night’s Watch had fallen including Jon’s good friend, Sam. The Hound and Ser Beric were lost as well as Bran, Gendry, Ser Jorah, Davos, Daenerys, Drogon, all the Dothraki. Most of the Unsullied and nearly all of the Northmen had fallen as well. 

Brienne was shocked at her relief to hear that Tormund had survived. Despite the man’s unwanted advances, he had always been kind to Brienne and he was a formidable warrior. A good amount of the Wildlings survived which Brienne wasn’t too surprised to hear. The wildlings had been dealing with the dead for some years and were likely more accustomed to fighting the creatures. Jon Snow also indicated that Greyworm had survived, but Brienne didn’t know the Unsullied commander well.

On her second day at camp, Brienne called a war council with Jon, Tormund, Arya, Greyworm, Ser Addam, Ser Daven, her father, Tyrion, and two captains from the Stormlands. She laid out Jaime’s plan and instructed the council where the men should begin building trenches and placing the wildfire. She made a pointed decision to withhold four barrels of the wildfire behind the lines. Everyone agreed with the plan and Jon snow in particular looked impressed with the strategy. From behind her, she heard an unexpected voice speak up. _Sansa_. Brienne hadn’t noticed the young woman enter the tent.

“And when exactly is this Golden Company to make their way here? Perhaps Ser Jaime is already setting sail with them back to Essos.”

Before Brienne could defend her husband, Jon spoke in a commanding tone. “Enough Sansa! Need I remind you why we’re all in this position!?”

An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between Jon and Sansa and the woman spoke no further. Sansa turned to exit the tent as quietly as she entered. Brienne addressed the room. “By my estimation, Ser Jaime and the Golden Company should be here within a week. My group arrived in a fortnight, but our trip was much slower on account of transporting the wildfire.”

Jon moved to stand before Brienne and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I thank you for this. It’s the best chance we have. We will continue to send scouts north of the neck to monitor the progress of the dead. I imagine Ser Jaime will arrive just in time for the battle. Gods help us all.”

The week passed in a blur with every waking hour spent preparing for the dead. Every day scouts rode out and back, no sign of the dead in sight. If the shift in weather was any indication, they were not far out. It grew terribly cold and snow began to fall regularly. Finally, the day arrived when Ser Addam came running to Brienne in the fields as she led the men in drills.

“Your Grace, the king arrives.” A sly smile spread across the red head’s face as Brienne followed him to the south end of the encampments to greet Jaime and Commander Strickland. Jaime hopped down from his horse and walked determinedly towards Brienne, pulling her into his arms and planting a firm kiss on her lips.

“Have you missed me wife? Surrounded by all those drab Northmen and my obnoxious bannerman.” Jaime cast a teasing glance to Addam who guffawed.

“Please _your Grace_. Your letter was enough to keep us in line. I’ve also seen your wife training the men in the yards. I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

Jaime broke into a beaming smile as he looked back at Brienne. “That’s my wench! How go the preparations?”

After getting Commander Strickland assigned quarters and seeing him to direct his men regarding where to setup camp, Brienne gave Jaime the full update as they made their way to Brienne’s tent. Entering the tent and continuing her update, Brienne felt a hand at her wrist and Jaime spun her around to meet her lips.

“I’ve missed you, wife.” Jaime muttered into her lips between kisses. Walking her backwards towards the cot, he brought his hand to her neck and deepened the kiss.

“Jaime, we have much to discuss with the war council first.”

Jaime huffed in feigned irritation, but he knew she had the right of it. Brienne watched as he ran a hand over his face in frustration. “I know, but it has been over a fortnight. Can we be quick with it then? I need my wife before I die either by the hand of the dead or by implosion from want.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and planted a kiss on Jaime’s lips. “I think you can survive another hour or two. Let me call the council. Sit. Have something to eat and drink.” Brienne inclined her head towards the table where a jug of water and food was laid out.

Before she could leave the tent, Jaime called out to her. “What armor do you have? I doubt that squire of yours managed to carry it off with him during the retreat.”

Brienne shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been training with whatever I could find available. And no, Pod did not think to grab my armor while escaping the dead and dragging his nearly torn off leg behind him.”

Jaime’s smile was beaming as he looked at her. “Excellent. Well… not about the boy’s leg. I meant the armor. My efforts won’t have been for naught. I had new armor commissioned the day of your departure.” _Of course he did. Insufferable, loveable man_.

Brienne smirked back at her husband as he dug into the food. “Well I trust you got my measurements right.”

Jaime flashed a wolfish grin back at her. “Oh, I would say my measurements have only become more precise.”

Brienne felt her stomach flip at his suggestive tone and thought it best to leave the tent unless she wanted to hold council on the morrow. Soon, the same group called just a week earlier had arrived with the addition of Jaime and Commander Strickland. This time, Sansa made her presence known from the start.

As Brienne gave a succinct update on the men’s progress in digging trenches and placing the barrels, Jaime gave an update on Commander Strickland’s forces. Unlike the battle of Winterfell where the troops had ample dragon glass, the stockpile was greatly depleted, and they didn’t have time to during the retreat to scrounge up more to equip the fresh troops with. Brienne spoke up.

“Yes, I assumed that was the case. This is why I asked for some barrels to be left behind. I’ve instructed the men to prepare the arrows bound with cloth that we could dip lightly in the wildfire. Just enough to light and catch the enemy ablaze. We’ll have torch bearers assigned to teams of archers for this purpose. The swords could also be lightly coated in the liquid as well. We’ve tested both weapons to ensure the troops wielding them wouldn’t catch fire and we have found the right level of liquid to use without concern for safety.”

Jaime cocked a surprised look at her and a smile of approval.

From the corner, Sansa scoffed at the updates.

“This is all for naught. We were prepared perfectly at Winterfell and our plans meant nothing in the end.”

Brienne could sense Jaime’s irritation next to her.

“I’m sorry Lady Sansa, but do you have a better idea? Seeing as your plans and refusal to heed my warning turned out _so well_ the last time.”

Sansa glared at Jaime. “Perhaps if you and your vile sister didn’t abandon our cause we wouldn’t be in this position. Our strategy would have worked.”

Jaime pulled himself to full height and snarled at the young woman. “Oh yes, your plan seemed _destined for success_. Let me see, your first decision was to take you strongest fighters, some ten thousand Dothraki, and send them straight at the dead without backup, which by Snow’s estimate totals one hundred thousand strong. Your second decision was to place everyone incapable of fighting in the crypts while the men outside faced a creature that can raise the dead. Very sound! Your third decision was to ignore my offered aid and plan to instead stay in a castle sitting in an open field where the enemy could attack from all angles. Oh yes and let’s not forget you used your own, crippled brother as bait! _Great planning_ my lady.”

Sansa stood from her chair in a fury and stalked towards the table. “Everyone out! I wish to have words with the Kingslayer.”

Jaime turned to dismiss Commander Strickland, Lord Selwyn, and the commanders from the Stormlands. At the behest of Jon Snow everyone except Sansa, Arya, and himself cleared out on their side. Brienne stood next to Jaime, refusing to leave his side.

Jaime scowled at Sansa. “I was as much a prisoner there as Brienne! We did what we had to do.”

Sansa turned her attention back to Jaime; distaste and mock surprise dripping from her tone. “So what? You’re king now?”

Jaime smirked at the girl. “Yes, I suppose I am. Don’t act so disappointed. This should be an improvement for you.”

Sansa scowled at Jaime. “Oh really. And prey tell, what good have you done in that role while breaking pledge to aid the living.”

Jaime barked a laugh and glared at the girl. “Oh lets see, in less than a moon’s turn I’ve overthrown your worst enemy, brought an army of some thirty thousand strong to your aid, knighted your sworn sword, which by the way you should have done long ago, and put forth a sound plan to defend the living. A plan which you ignored because you cared more for some old stone in the middle of the bloody north. I would say I’m off to a fine start as king.”

Arya looked pointedly at Jaime and her tone brokered no argument. “You killed Cersei?”

Jaime sighed deeply looking first at Brienne before settling his gaze back on the girl. “Yes. We’ve had to say otherwise so the Golden Company would not break contract and the former Queensguard wouldn’t throw me in a black cell alongside Brienne.”

Sansa had the good grace to look shocked by his words. Arya took in his statement before responding; casting a glance at Sansa. “Good. I like him. He stays.”

Jaime looked affronted and Brienne watched his face fall into confusion. “I’m sorry. Was killing me an option on the table!?”

At that, Arya and Sansa spoke in unison. “Yes!”

It was Jon Snow who spoke next. “I told the two of you, this nonsense ends here!”

Sansa cast her gaze to Jon. “Fine. So he doesn’t need to be killed, but that doesn’t make him the rightful heir! You are!”

Brienne and Jaime exchanged confused glances before looking back to Jon.

The bastard looked exhausted and irritated. “I told you. I don’t want it, Sansa!”

Brienne couldn’t contain herself any longer. “I’m sorry, but how is Jon rightful heir?”

Begrudgingly, Jon shared the information that Bran and Sam had presented him. Brienne and Jaime listened in awe. Brienne watched as Jaime slowly rounded the table.

“You’re Rhaegar’s son? I served him under Aerys. He would have made a fine king. I was disheartened to have been left behind while he marched on the Trident to fight.”

Jon looked taken aback by the words. “You knew him?”

Jaime huffed a laugh. “I was but a boy when I served in Aerys’ guard, but I remember your father. He was a good man. Nothing like his father. I swore I would protect him and his family. I failed them, but I would fight for you. I would gladly see you on the throne.”

Sansa was incredulous. “You would abdicate for Jon!?”

Jaime rolled his eyes at the girl. “I don’t want to be king anymore than Brienne wants to be queen. It was the only way for our plan to work. I intend to abdicate to someone better suited after the war.”

Jon exhaled and shook his head. “I’m no leader. I failed everyone at Winterfell just as I failed my brothers in the Night’s Watch before. Lets focus on beating the dead.”

Jaime looked back to Brienne. All three were fighters and had no desire to rule, but perhaps that was what Westeros needed. A ruler who just wanted to protect and serve. _We’ll convince him, but he is right. First, we beat the dead._

As Jon moved to leave the tent, Sansa grabbed Jaime’s wrist. Brienne watched hesitantly, not certain what to expect from the exchange.

“You killed Cersei for Brienne? You love her then?”

Jaime looked the young woman directly in the eye. “I did and I do.”

Sansa maintained her mask and took a moment to let the words sink in before responding. “Good.” Then she was out of the tent in a swirl of skirts, leaving Arya, Jaime, and Brienne alone.

“You were never on my list Kingslayer, but your sister was. I suppose you saved me a trip further south.” Then the young wolf was gone from the tent, leaving Jaime and Brienne staring at each other.

Jaime shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “Well I guess I’m allowed to fight for the living rather than join the ranks of the dead. Can we go back to our tent now?” Jaime cast a grin at Brienne who promptly rolled her eyes while extending her hand.

“Come along now your Grace. Not too much longer before the dead arrive to try and add us all to their ranks.”


	13. The Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dead arrive - warning the initial part is a bit NSFW

Jaime and Brienne made their way back to the tent at the conclusion of the war council. Upon entering, Jaime was pleased to see that the men had unloaded the armor he brought from King’s Landing. His armor had been set out to the left of the tent and Brienne’s to the center. He watched as her eyes landed on the new armor; her movement coming to abrupt halt as she took it in.

The armor was mostly comprised of a blue hue similar to her last set of armor. The breastplate was entirely blue, but the chainmail to be worn underneath was Lannister crimson. As the last set of chainmail was studied with tiny starbursts, this set of chainmail alternated between starbursts and lionheads. The pauldrons, vambraces, and couters were of similar shape to her last set; slightly less bulky than a typical set worn by men, but the shoulders had gold lionheads similar to Jaime’s. Unlike Jaime’s, these lionheads were set with a sapphire cast in the mouth.

Brienne turned to face Jaime, a wet sheen in her eyes and launched herself at him, pulling him into a firm embrace. “It’s perfect!”

Jaime knew when he had the armor designed that he wanted nothing more than to claim her as his, but he also knew she would not appreciate that. He forced himself to compromise on a balanced design paying homage to Tarth and the West.

“So this will suffice then?”

Brienne cast a wry smirk. “This will more than suffice. Thank you.”

“Well good because you may need to protect me from those Stark girls. They seem a little too eager to kill me off.” Brienne huffed in irritation and stepped back from the embrace; walking towards the armor to inspect it more closely. Jaime sulked at the immediate loss of warmth.

“Sansa has been in less than a reasonable mood this week.”

_Less than reasonable? The girl is acting like a mini Cersei in the making._

Wrapping his arms around Brienne’s waist and placing his chin on her shoulder, Jaime placed a delicate kiss to her neck. “I’ve had a very traumatic near moon’s turn myself. I was stuck in that castle with Bronn as my sole source of comradery and then those boring sellswords from Essos on the march here. They don’t appreciate my attempts at conversation.”

From under his chin, Jaime could feel Brienne chuckling. “I bet they’re thinking they weren’t paid enough if their journey here was anything like mine through the Riverlands.”

Jaime gasped in mock horror at Brienne’s words and clasped his heart. “You wound me wench! I thought we had a marvelous time together. Really hit it off.”

Now Brienne was guffawing quite loudly. “Surely you can’t be serious.” As Jaime joined in her laughter, suddenly Brienne’s laughter came to a halt as she wiped a stray tear from her eye.

“Where is Bronn anyway? I didn’t see him upon your arrival.”

Jaime started chuckling a bit more. “Well he has always wanted a castle, so I gave him one. He is acting castellan in my stead.” 

Brienne’s eyes widened and her brows rose at Jaime’s words. “You can’t be serious! You left Bronn in charge of King’s Landing?”

Jaime shrugged. “Well I was rather low on options. How much worse could it get over there?”

Brienne stammered and threw up her arms in exasperation. “He’ll turn the castle into a whorehouse by the time we’re back.”

Jaime snorted at the thought. “How is that any different from Robert’s reign?” Brienne cast a rather unimpressed look at her husband and sat down on the cot.

Jaime took a seat next to her and threw his right arm over her shoulder. “I did the best I could. I even got the blasted Greyjoys to stop trying to kill each other for long enough to join our cause.”

With a dramatic pout, Jaime placed his head on Brienne’s shoulder. He felt her sigh and run her hand through his hair. “Well I guess it is better than no one at all. Gods imagine if none of us survive this war and Bronn is in charge of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Both let out a soft chuckle at the thought and Jaime moved to press his lips to Brienne’s. The kiss deepened quickly and Jaime slowly pushed Brienne back onto the cot. Their limbs began franticly moving to discard the layers of clothing between them. Jaime nibbled at her jaw and earlobe as the last of the garments covering their uppers bodies were discarded on the floor. Jaime could feel Brienne’s hands at the laces of his breeches and he fumbled with her laces using his one good hand. Impatience won out as both barely had their pants down before Jaime was pushing into her. As Jaime sheathed himself in Brienne’s warm folds and began to fall into a rhythm, shouting broke out from somewhere outside the tent. “Jaime. What is that?”

Jaime muttered into her ear. “My cock.”

Brienne huffed in irritation. “No. Outside the tent!”

Jaime wanted none of it. “Nothing. Let the captains deal with it.”

The two returned to their passioned kissing as Jaime thrust harder; his pace near frantic. _Gods I’ve missed her. So tight. So perfect._

The yelling outside grew louder and more chaotic. Brienne’s voice grew slightly more worried but maintained a breathless edge to it. “Jaime. Jaime, I think something is happening.”

Jaime ignored the world around them and nipped at her ear while muttering again. “Yes, something is happening.”

Before Brienne could protest further, Daven came running into the tent. “Cuz!”

Jaime felt Brienne stiffen and turn a bright shade of red. Jaime grabbed for something at the foot of the cot to cover Brienne as he snapped his head to Daven who looked away from the pair. “Fuck! What the fuck Daven!? Get out!”

“Cuz. The dead are here! I think that can wait.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’ll kill the fucking Night King myself for interrupting wench time!_

“Fine Daven. Get out! We’re coming!”

Daven chuckled as he moved to exit. “I can see that.”

_Gods why is everyone in my family such shit._

Jaime turned back to Brienne who looked like she wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “Can we just…”

“No!” Brienne screamed and looked at him in disbelief. “We need to get dressed.”

The pair quickly dressed and put on their armor as best they could with three hands between them. Making their way out from the tent, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and they moved swiftly towards the lines. A hand grabbed at Brienne’s free wrist in the dark as they approached the formations. “Brienne! Where do I go?” It was Sansa.

“My lady, stay back at the tents. Sit with Pod if it will keep your mind off the battle.”

“And what if they dead reach us!?” Sansa was panic stricken as she looked between the pair. Jaime huffed in frustration and took a step towards Sansa, not releasing Brienne’s hand.

“If the dead make it to you, it means we are among them. Run.” At Sansa’s horrified expression, Jaime spun back around, yanking Brienne’s hand towards the battle lines.

Approaching their position, Brienne was at Jaime’s left and flanked by Daven and Addam. Selwyn and the Stormland captains stood to Jaime’s right. Daven and Addam chuckled at the pair while Selwyn looked ready to throw himself at the mercy of the Night King’s army. To the right of the Stormland forces stood the remaining forces from the northern retreat and Jon Snow atop Rhaegal. To the left of the Lannister forces stood the Golden Company. Tarth’s archers stretched out as far as the eye could see along the shoreline of the neck, poised to light the barrels at Jaime’s command. Further to the east, Jaime could see the outline of the Iron Fleet anchored in the inlet.

“By the Gods.” At Selwyn’s breathless comment, Jaime and Brienne tracked his eyeline to the sea of undead approaching in the distance.

“Ready to experience the fable, father?” Brienne unsheathed her sword while uttering the words. Jaime was quick to follow. Taking a step forward, Jaime gave the command to the archers. “Nock!”

Jaime watched as the Tarth archers moved into position and the assigned torchbearers set their arrows ablaze. The command made its ways down the line and the light from the shore served as the signal to the Iron Born who lit their arrows.

As the dead pressed forward across the Neck, Addam called the distance. “400 yards – hold. 300 yards – hold. In range.”

Jaime shouted “Loose!” and a sea of arrows lit up the night sky as they made their way towards the intended targets. Jaime’s mind quickly estimated the impact. The first line of barrels should effectively take out roughly one-third of the Night King’s army based on the dead’s formation, location relative to the barrels, and approximated number of the undead army. Arrows from the ships followed to reach the barrels marked deeper into the Neck and deeper into the ranks of the dead.”

On impact, the wildfire burst into a cloud of deep, rich, green plumes and set the dead ablaze. The shrill sound of undead cries filled the night sky and the living watched the enemy appear before them. The impact and afterglow from the exploding barrels of wildfire outlined the full army of the dead. From what Jaime could see, roughly half appeared to be ablaze and the rest had nowhere to go as their dead comrades burned around them and blocked passage into the Neck’s narrowest passage. _At least the Night King can’t raise the ashes of the dead.._

Eerily, the outline of several giants did not go unnoticed by the living, nor the distant presence of two undead dragons. The dead not yet ablaze watched on in indifference. With their numbers halved, it was almost an even fight, but the living found themselves one dragon fewer and short on dragon glass.

As the living stood with bated breath waiting for the dead to make their next move, Jaime observed a figure approach in the night sky. From a distance, Jaime could scarcely make out the outline of something atop one of the undead dragons. He watched in fascination as the creature pointed towards the seas.

Abruptly, the temperature in the air plummeted. Looking to his left and right, Jaime could see heavy, fog-like condensation escaping the lips of every living soldier as they breathed in and out. A chill like nothing Jaime experienced before ran through the air and his attention was caught by the rapidly forming ice over the inlets to the east and west of the neck. Jaime’s stump began to throb in pain at the temperature drop. Men without gloves gasped as their hands stuck to their pommels and their skin tore open in their attempt to loosen the iron from their grips.

To his right, Jaime heard the sound of the Iron fleet cracking under the pressure of the rapidly forming ice. A stream or Ironborn fled the ships as the dead began to move around their burning comrades and onto the ice to march on the living. _Fuck._

Jaime felt a giant hand grab his right arm and he turned in time to see Selwyn yank him forcefully towards his looming figure. Leaning down to Jaime’s face, the older lord looked into Jaime’s eyes. “You fight and you do not stop fighting. Do you hear my boy? Keep my girl safe. Watch her back and I will watch yours.”

Jaime felt the wight of the man’s words and could do nothing but nod. Swallowing deeply, he looked to his left where Brienne was barking orders at the torchbearers to begin lighting the swords of those without valyrian steel. Line by line, the men whose swords went ablaze turned to the man behind him and shared the fire to ignite the next wildfire-soaked steel. Suddenly, they stood before the dead, a sea of burning swords.

The Tarth archers fell back to their designated area at the ends of the foot soldiers. The torchbearers followed to ensure each arrow was ablaze before it pierced the dead. Brienne moved back to Jaime’s side and Jaime turned to watch Jon Snow take flight. Moving above the shoreline, Jon met the incoming dead with dragon fire. Under heat of the dragon’s fiery breath, the newly formed ice split open and the incoming dead fell through. In the distance, the Night King and the other dragon made their move towards Jon in an apparent attempt to throw him off. To Jaime’s left, he could feel the dead rapidly approaching across the ice as Jon had not been able to stop their progress to the eastern inlet.

The archers began firing at the dead and those that missed the onslaught of arrows were met with fiery blades of the living. The dead reached Jaime and Brienne within moments. It was a chaotic swirl of gnashing teeth, thrashing arms, and clawing fingers. The initial advantage the living had, slowly began to evaporate as waves of undead washed over the leftmost formations. The Golden Company and Lannister bannerman took the brunt of it and fought back with wild screams and desperate strikes. _Either the night grows darker or our burning swords are fewer._

In the distance just beyond the northern shoreline of the neck, Jaime heard the battle cry of the deepest tenor ever to grace his ears; giants. “Goodfather, your cousins approach!”

Selwyn’s war cries were as loud as Brienne’s as he felled dead man after dead man. Jaime had been able to arrange for the older lord to wield the Tarly family’s valyrian steel blade. In the chaos of the last battle, Jon had the wherewithal to collect the blade from Ser Jorah’s and Daenery’s lifeless bodies moments before Jon raced after the Night King; two swords in hand.

“Gods damnit boy. You’re more irksome than the dead.” Jaime bit back a laugh at his goodfather’s words. As he thought of a witty retort, he heard Selwyn scream behind him. “Down boy!”

In a flash, valyrian steel blocked what would have been a fatal blow to Jaime’s head. In Selwyn’s haste to block the blow to Jaime’s head, another wight had lunged at Selwyn, slashing the older man’s gut. _No!_ Jaime lunged at the offending wights and felled both in a heartbeat. Dropping to his knees at Selwyn’s side, Jaime observed a pool of blood forming beneath the older Lord. Jaime felt panic wash over him.

“Brienne. Stay with Brienne.” Selwyn grunted as he pushed Jaime away. Looking around frantically, Jaime spotted Brienne and Addam feet from him and fighting alongside one another. Jaime grabbed Addam and directed him to watch over Selwyn. Jumping to Brienne’s side, the pair fought back to back forming a semicircle around Selwyn and Addam. Looking back to gain better understanding for the change in sparring partner, Jaime watched as Brienne’s eyes widened in horror. “Father!”

Before Brienne had the opportunity to move towards her kin, a dragon’s cry was heard in the distance. Jon was outnumbered. Realizing what was happening, Jaime watched as Brienne cast a frantic look between the dragons and her father. “Go girl!” Selwyn’s command broke the spell. “End this!”

Brienne took off with a bolt towards the eastern formations. Jaime followed close at her heel, felling any wight that came within a yard of her. From his backside, Jaime heard a wight giant’s strangled war cry as the creature feel through the ice on the eastern inlet. _Thank the Gods. The big ones can’t cross._

As Jaime and Brienne made their way east, forces from the east moved west to give aid to the Golden Company and Lannister bannermen struggling to hold off the scores of dead. Nearing the eastern bank, Brienne grabbed a fallen archer’s bow and arrows. “Jaime! I need to dip these into more wildfire.”

Looking around frantically, Jaime spotted one of the reserve barrels the men had been using for the swords and arrows earlier. “There!”

As they made their way towards the barrel, dragon fire poured down from the sky nearly missing them. _Please Gods not the barrel!_ “Brienne be quick about this! The flames are closing in. This entire space is about to go up!”

Brienne dipper her arrow deeper into the barrel and pulled it out with the liquid sludge dripping from the cloth covered arrow. Jaime watched as she slowly tracked the dragons in the night sky. Within a heartbeat, her arrow was darting into the night sky. Just as the Night King’s undead dragon opened its mouth to spit more dragon fire at its brother, the wildfire drenched arrow met its mouth, causing the beast to implode on impact. The shock waves of the wildfire sent wight Daenery and wight Drogon careening to the earth not far from Jon and Rhaegal.

“Seven hells Brienne! You killed it! You killed the Night King!’ Brienne’s eyes were wide at the vision before her. Wight Viserion’s body was awash in green flames at the shoreline. _Is it over? The dead are still attacking. Do they not cease when their king falls?_ Then they saw it. From the green flames, the Night King emerged and was headed straight for them.

_Fuck. Well I suppose I did ask for this meeting earlier._

Stepping in front of Brienne, Jaime yelled back to his wife. “Brienne, get behind me!”

Brienne scoffed from behind him. “I will do no such thing!” Memories of the bear pit hit Jaime like a punch to the gut. _Keep her safe._

Suddenly she was at his side and Jaime felt a mix of fear and worry pool in his gut at Brienne’s stubbornness. The two lifted their twin blades to meet the oncoming assault. In one fell swoop, the Night King knocked both Jaime and Brienne back several feet. _Seven hells the impact nearly took my remaining hand off._

Jaime watched the creature stalk towards Brienne and Jaime leapt to his feet. Bringing their two swords together again, they blocked the next blow barely in time. The creature had only swung twice, but Jaime was exhausted from the exertion of blocking the blows. From the corner of his eye, Jaime could see Jon Snow standing in the open field, hobbling on one leg. Wight Daenerys was approaching him with what appeared to be a dagger in hand. Jaime swore Snow was weeping and pleading at her to stop, but he was too far away to be certain.

Before Jaime could think on it further, the Night King was bringing down another blow towards Brienne. _It knows she is the bigger threat. He is trying to end her first._

Jaime again gave aid to block the blow and immediately launched a counter strike which the creature easily blocked away, sending Jaime’s blade flying. As the Night King’s counterstrike followed through, Brienne launched her blade at the Night King; grazing his side.

As though a fly landed on him, the creature swatter her arm away, buying Jaime just enough time to lunge for his sword and charge at the Night King again. As the Night King moved to block the blow, Brienne was at the creature’s backside bringing down her sword. The Night King quickly darted away and blocked the strike. Pivoting quickly, the Night King kicked her hard in the ribs. Jaime swore he heard ribs break. In the distance, something caught Jaime’s eye. Jon had thrust his blade through Daenerys. As he pulled the blade out, it was set ablaze in blue flame. As though becoming aware of his surroundings for the first time, Jon observed the battle between Brienne, Jaime, and the Night King.

Moving quickly to stand before Brienne and spare her another blow, Jaime raised his blade in defense and absorbed the blow. The Night King’s strike was so strong that the block didn’t stop the blade from its downward trajectory, slicing Jaime’s right arm. At the same tie, Brienne shoved her blade into the Night King’s right shoulder causing the creature to take pause. Before any of the three could take further action, a flaming blue blade pierced through the Night King’s chest, causing the creature to shatter into thousands of icy shards. Slowly, the battle cries and shrill screams of the dead ceased. Brienne, Jaime, and Jon looked around to see the ranks of the living standing in shared confusion and shock. The dead were dead.


	14. The Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle with the dead is over and the living are accounted for. Now Brienne and Jaime need to have a chat with Jon.

Brienne felt in a fog as Jaime lead her through the throngs of living who were milling about the camp. The Golden Company had already prepared to move out on the morrow; their contract completed. All the injured had been moved to tents and the dead piled along the shoreline. Even though the Night King was gone, everyone agreed it made sense to burn the bodies. _Better safe than sorry._

They had lost nearly half of their forces with the greatest loss coming to the Golden Company and Lannister bannerman given the initial onslaught from the western flank. Scanning the tents containing the injured, Brienne could distantly hear Jaime inquiring about which tent housed her father.

“Brienne. Brienne, this way.” Brienne turned to see Jaime’s eyes boring into hers. He inclined his head towards a tent just in front of them. Pulling back the tent flap, they stepped in to see Lord Selwyn propped up against some pillows, his chest bare and his stomach wrapped tightly with bandages. A healer bowed his head at the pair and moved away from the bed as they approached. Brienne nearly fell onto her father in relief upon seeing the color in his face. “Please girl. It will take a lot more than some dead thing giving me a papercut.”

“It is NOT a papercut! The entire army nearly saw your dinner.”

Selwyn batted her away and huffed in response. The healer stepped in to speak with Brienne. “I need him to let me apply the salve to ward off infection, but he insists it is fine.” _Stubborn man!_ “Father, you will let his man apply the salve or I’ll finish the job the dead started!” A silent exchanged passed between them and Selwyn lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“None of this would have happened if pretty boy here wasn’t so busy coming up with japes rather than watching for an attack aimed straight at his head!”

Brienne shot a glare back at Jaime, who balked in feigned offense. “I was merely seeking his advice! I had hoped he would know best how to handle his kind.”

“His kind?” Brienne did not like where this was going.

“The giants! Wench did you see them!?”

 _By the Gods, this man._ “Jaime! What happened the last time you tried to yammer on while battling near a Tarth?” Jaime cocked his brow in question. Brienne mirrored his expression. “Don’t grimace. Gives the game away.”

A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “And look how much better you fight now!”

Brienne scowled at him. “You were defeated! Got distracted and sloppy. You think you are so clever and don’t pay attention to an imminent attack.” Brienne didn’t need to turn her back to know her father was wearing a giant grin as he snickered behind him.

“You are lucky my father was there! He almost died for it.”

Jaime had the good grace to look ashamed at that. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to keep the mood light seeing as the actual light was waning quickly.”

“Brienne. I need a word with the boy.” _Oh dear._ Turning to give a warning look at her father, she watched as Selwyn didn’t remove his eyes from Jaime. Storming out of the tent, Brienne looked around to try and find Arya. Arya had been at the frontlines with the rest of the remaining Northerners and took a nasty blow to the head. Nothing too serious but would surely require some stitches.

Walking down the rows of tents housing the injured, Brienne looked into each trying to find the young wolf. She finally found her only to come face to with Sansa and Jon who sat on each side of the girl’s cot. Arya smiled brightly at Brienne. “Dragonslayer! Come in.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at the moniker. The men had taken to calling her that since the battle ended. Jaime wouldn’t stop animatedly reenacting the scene to anyone who would listen. “How are you feeling my lady?”

Arya snorted. “It’s a scratch! Nothing to fuss over. This is unnecessary.” _Does she know my father?_ Jon stood as Brienne neared the bed. “Your Grace.” Jon bowed his head and looked into Brienne’s eyes. “Oh please don’t. Just Brienne. That title is even worse than Dragonslayer.”

Sansa exhaled audibly at that. “Always so modest. Jon tells me that were it not for you and Ser Jaime, we were sure as dead.”

Brienne sighed and stood up straighter. “The true saviors were those who held off the dead so that we could isolate the Night King. I regret we lost so many.” Sansa rose to meet Brienne. “Your Grace. I was hoping we might have a word in private.”

Brienne smiled lightly and looked at the young woman who had aged so much these past few years. “Only if you stop calling me that. I am no queen.”

Sansa’s tone brokered no argument. “You and Ser Jaime would make fine rulers if only you weren’t as stubborn as my brot…cousin here.” Sansa shared a knowing look with Jon who only shook his head as if this were a game between them.

Following Sansa, the two women walked slowly down the rows of tents. The walked in companionable silence for a couple of minutes before Sansa stopped walking and looked up into Brienne’s eyes. “I want to apologize for my words towards you since your arrival. I have felt a great deal of guilt in my decisions at Winterfell and didn’t know what to make of everything. I took it out on you. I still don’t understand the history between you and Ser Jaime, but he must love you dearly if he killed Cersei of all people to ensure your safety. I had no right by what I said.”

Brienne looked down at her feet, not wanting to display how much Sansa’s words had moved her. “It’s alright Lady Sansa. I understand better than you might think. I watched my father endure grief and despair at the loss of my mother, brother, and baby sisters. He often lashed out at the nearest person who oft was me.”

Sansa’s body loosened slightly, but worry still shone at the girls eyes. “You’re too kind to me. I shall make it up to you. How are you ribs by the way?”

Brienne shrugged. “I had fine armor on that took most of the blow. The healer thinks one or two are broken, but after what I endured with the Mountain it doesn’t feel too bad.”

Sansa grimaced at the mention of Ser Gregor. “And Ser Jaime? How is his arm?”

Brienne met Sansa’s grimace with one of her own. “He took quite a lot of stitches. I was a bit worried at first, but then he wouldn’t shut up after the battle so I knew he hadn’t lost too much blood.”

The women shared a laugh and as if summoned by the Night King himself, Jaime came jogging down the rows of tents calling out Brienne’s name. “Oh dear. Lets see how long he goes before coming up for air.” Brienne muttered to Sansa and watched the young woman’s eyes dance with mirth.

“You didn’t wait for me! I had to take a bigger beating from your father than the Night King himself. And why does he insist on calling me ‘boy’. I am going gray! I can’t take too many more of these battles. Gods and now Jon means to argue with me about the bloody throne. He won’t take the crown, Brienne! We have to find a way to force his hand.” As Jaime prattled on, Brienne cast a sideways glance at Sansa who covered her laugh with a hand. “And if you can believe it, some red-headed wildling accosted me about stealing you! He called you his ‘big woman’! What is all that about!? Brienne, so help me Gods has that wildling tried to force himself on you!? The way his eyebrows moved all about as he lusted after you. Of course, this was after he threatened to…”

“Oh by the Seven! Jaime do shut up.” Jaime looked affronted while Sansa failed to suppress her laugh this time. The young woman had to visibly turn away from the pair to compose herself.

“Brienne. I am serious about that wildling fellow. He said something about making you his spear wife. What is that? Did you not tell him about me!?” _Oh by the Gods._

“Tell him about you? When? As we spent days digging trenches?”

“No wench! He said he was with you in the North. That he _claimed_ you. I don’t see how that is possible. Didn’t you have Oathkeeper with you? I mean that pretty much says your accounted for!”

Brienne was torn between laughing at him and punching him. “Oh really? Is that what it is.” Realizing he was on dangerous ground, Jaime backed off, but stood firm on Tormund. Raising his hands in mock surrender, Jaime muttered under his breath. “Fucking wildlings.”

Thankfully, Brienne caught Jon’s eye as he emerged from Arya’s tent. Waving him over, Brienne turned to Sansa. “My lady, we need you to do something about this. Convince him, please!”

Sansa huffed in response. “The three of you are all quite ridiculous really. You are all perfectly well suited for the throne.”

Jon’s slowly trudged over to the three, immediately knowing where this was going. “Can I have a moments peace?”

Brienne couldn’t lose this opportunity to both convince the man to take his rightful place and halt this absurd conversation with Jaime about Tormund. As Jon approached, Sansa scurried off. “Good luck.” She called back as she made her way towards Arya’s tent.

Jon started before Brienne could formulate a thought. “If this is about the throne…”

Jaime interrupted him. “Yes, yes. We know. You don’t want it. But neither do we. Why make two people suffer when only one can?” Jamie flashed a sly grin at Jon who appeared less than amused.

“I spent my entire life in shame thinking I was a bastard. Then I decide to join the Night’s Watch and do something I can be proud of. Protect the realm. Protect innocents. And they… they did not appreciate my efforts. Then I let everyone down at Winterfell. I’m not fit to rule!”

Brienne felt herself grow equally flustered. “Neither am I! No one ever took me seriously and most on Tarth though my father better off without me. Do you really think Ned Stark would have been eager to see his only living heir go off to fight if he wanted him or her around to rule when he passed?”

At her words, Jon looked down at his feet. “And I think we can all agree that I’ve spent far too many years in King’s Landing as it is. I am tired and old. It’s a young man’s game.”

Brienne sucked in a breath before continuing. “I was there when the North named you as King. They thought you a bastard at the time and they still picked you over living Starks. That should mean something. The wildlings trusted you and followed you even when everyone else wanted them dead.”

Jaime jumped in at the mention of the wildings. “Although if you could send them back north now that would be great! That Tormund fellow is leering at Brienne too much for my taste.”

At that, Jon couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked back to Brienne. “You know I’m sorry about all that. He has been quite taken with you. There is no talking him down.”

Jaime muttered beside Brienne, but she pressed on. “All these men here know you ended the long night. You saved them. They will follow you. Just build yourself a strong council to help you. You can lead. I’ve seen it.”

At that, Jon’s brows shot up and a small smile tugged at his lips. “If I accept the crown, it will be on one condition.”

Jaime and Brienne exchanged hopefully glances at each other.

“If I call you on to serve, you will accept.”


	15. The New King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new king is crowned and a small council formed.

They had been back in King’s Landing a fortnight. Word of the defeat of the dead traveled quickly and bards across the Seven Kingdoms sang of Azor Ahai reborn, the Dragonslayer, and the redeemed Kingslayer. Jon was set to be crowned on the morrow and despite his widely-known Targaryen lineage, he bore the Stark sigil. This would not be a reign of fire and blood nor a reign of clawing lions. This was to be a reign of wolves.

At midday, Jon had called Brienne and Jaime into his solar. Pushing the door open and holding it for Brienne, he followed her into the room without a care in the world. Never had there been a more abdicating king. “Your Grace. You called for us? We are here as promised.”

Jaime’s smile was sharp and Jon sighed at the man. “Please have a seat.”

Taking a seat across the table from Jon, Jaime looked to his wife in adoration. They had just found out the day prior that Brienne was pregnant. They had not shared the news yet as by the maester’s calculations she was only two moons along.

Jon took a steadying breath and looked between the pair. “I’ve put great thought to my small council and I wish to have you both play a role. Lady Brienne, I would have you as my Lady Commander of the Kings Guard, and Ser Jaime, I would have you as my hand.

Both stared mutely for a moment before Jaime spoke up. “But I fear I don’t have a spare.” He raised the stump and watched as the broody young man before him rolled his eyes in a manner that was sure to make Brienne proud.

“Your Grace, I fear that I’m already disqualified for the role. I’m married and… what if Ser Jaime and I have children?”

Jon darted his eyes back and forth between the two. “Yes, congratulations on that by the way. I’m adjusting the rules so that members of the Kingsguard may marry and have children.”

Jaime and Brienne shared a glance as if asking the other ‘did you say anything’.

“The maester told me. When he heard I intended to name Brienne Lady Commander he expressed concern. I can assure you this won’t be an issue with me. I like to think of the little one as a future member of the Kingsguard.” Jon cast a beaming smile at them.

Jaime hesitated before speaking. “It isn’t that I’m not honored, but… I’ve no mind for politics. I understand military strategy but little else. I would make a poor hand.”

Jon smiled wider. “Your lack of love for politics is exactly why I want to name you hand. With Tyrion as Master of Law and Arya as Master of Whispers, I assure you we’ll have all the political maneuvering covered.”

 _Arya as Master of Whispers?_ “I’m sorry, but Arya strikes me more as a fighter than…”

“She trained in Braavos with the Faceless Man. I can assure you, she has plenty of disguises to obtain any information we need. She is also quite stealth.”

_Gods that little wolf is terrifying._

Casting a glance at Brienne, Jaime moved to speak, but Jon was not done yet.

“I want you both on my council because you are both brave, honorable, and just. I am sick of politics and want to honor Daenery’s vision to break the wheel. I know many thought her methods questionable, but I found the goal admirable. I mean to honor that. I don’t want another reign of deceit and fear.”

Jaime glanced again to Brienne who merely shrugged.

Jon made one final push. “In King’s Landing, you would be closer to Tarth. I’m certain Lord Selwyn would love to see his grandchildren.”

Jaime groaned in mock torment and Brienne slapped his arm. _Fuck! The stiches wench._

Begrudgingly, Jaime looked back to Jon. “Fine. But only because it is better than having to wear that crown. And because I swore an oath to you father that I intend to keep.”

Jon smiled and stood to shake their hands. As Jaime and Brienne turned to leave, Jon called out to them. “I was thinking Tormund would make an excellent Master of War. He does work incredibly well with the Lady Commander here.”

Jaime moved to complain, but felt Brienne’s hands at his and a look that beseeched him to ‘shut the fuck up’. Jon let out a loud guffaw and sat back down. “Don’t worry. He is escorting Lady Sansa and the Northmen home to rebuild Winterfell.” Jaime felt his pulse slow and he sent a sharp smile Jon’s way.

“Excellent. Because my first act as Hand would have been to remove the position of Master of War and send him off to discover what is west of Westeros.”

Jon shook his head at the words and bid them good day.

The following day’s coronation was swift and jubilant. Citizens lined up to catch a glimpse of their new sovereign; hope flooding their eyes. As troops slowly cleared out from the capital and back to their respective kingdoms, Jon pulled together his first council meeting. In addition to Tyrion, Jaime, Brienne, Arya, and the maester, Jon had appointed Yara as Master of Ships and Bronn Master of Coin. Jon expressed to the group that he felt there was no one more qualified for the position than Yara. Of Jon, he felt who better to watch the books than someone accustomed to scrimping to get buy; earning his keep the hard way and having little concept of debt. He also felt the sellsword’s understanding for the common folk would keep the council, currently full of nobles and an educated maester, honest.

Behind private doors, Jon jokingly told Jaime that he also enjoyed Bronn get a rise out of the Lannister brothers. Keep them in check. Deflate the egos. _You truly are a bastard Jon Snow._

Eventually the day came for Lord Selwyn to return to Tarth. King Jon bid him farewell and thanked him again for his aid in the war with the dead. Selwyn scoffed at the young king. “The next time I get a letter from these two, I’m staying comfortable on my island!”

Jon grinned and muttered at a volume just loud enough for the three to hear. “I wouldn’t be too certain about that.”

Selwyn looked between Jaime and Brienne. Jaime watched as his wife’s face lit up like a Lannister banner and couldn’t control the mirth in his eyes and the laughter that escaped his lips.

“It can’t be! Are you…”

Brienne looked briefly to Jaime and he nodded at her slightly. Before she could utter her response, Selwyn had lunged himself at her. A charging embrace Tormund would be proud of. Pulling back while holding Brienne by the arms, Selwyn’s smile was as wide as Jaime had ever seen it.

“My girl! We’re to have a little Selwyn or Selwynne.” Throwing back his head in laughter, Selwyn removed his right hand from Brienne’s arm and threw a playful, albeit it hard, punch into Jaime’s gut “Good lad! There is use for that mouth of yours yet!” Now it was Jaime’s turn to double over and turn a shade of Lannister colors.

As they saw Selwyn and his remaining captains from Tarth off, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and walked her back into the keep. “So, what are you going to write about me in the White Book?”

Jaime wiggled his brows and nudged her shoulder.

“Lets hope for your sake I write the entry before I got into labor. I fear my account may be far different after that. I also may need a few extra pages. I want to make it clear what a miserable shit you were when I met you. I think everyone would agree that I am _completely_ the reason you became a likable person.”

Jaime feigned insult at her words and clutched his heart. “Wench! I’ll have you know that is entirely unfounded. Completely something you would write.”


End file.
